


The call of the fire

by telekinetic_hedgehog



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Families of Choice, Finn Needs A Hug, Finn-centric, Flashbacks, Force Healing, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Healing Power of Love, Hurt Finn, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Jedi Rey, Jess is a Great Friend, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Recovery, Self-Harm, Therapy, ptsd!Poe, updated daily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 21,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telekinetic_hedgehog/pseuds/telekinetic_hedgehog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FN-2817 dreams of bringing peace to the galaxy by serving the First Order, but a fateful mission on Jakku leaves a village burning down along with all his hopes. After he runs away, Finn's friends on the Resistance base help him overcome the lies, wounds, and uncertainties he's left with from his time in the First Order. Aided by their love, he faces his past, his fears, and some painful truths in order to truly recover and find peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. peace to the galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> First fanfic ever, and I'm pretty nervous! 
> 
> Many thanks to beautifullights for encouraging me to join AO3.

> _You may raise soldiers_  
>  _clever, skilled in battle,_  
>  _brave in the face of fear_  
>  _and full of fire in their hearts_  
>  _But there’s a chance, if you want to raise an army_  
>  _That you will not keep the soldiers_  
>  _Because these clever, brave soldiers_  
>  _will one day make their own decisions_  
>  _And choose their battles_  
>  _They must answer the call of the fire_  
>  _Burning hot in their souls_  
>  _So be careful when you raise an army_  
>  _The soldiers may not stay_
> 
> _-Lana Hobbs,["When you try to raise an army"](https://lanahobbs.wordpress.com/2013/04/12/when-you-try-to-raise-an-army/)_

The young man closes his eyes and feels the vibrations of the orchestral music shake through his body, swelling with power and hope. Here he is, standing surrounded by soldiers like him, who are dedicated to the same cause: they are going to bring peace to the galaxy. He could hardly feel more awed, more connected.

Once again gratitude overwhelms him. The Order chose him from birth, shaped him into who he is today, and gave him the chance to further the only cause in the galaxy worth fighting for. They gave him his identity, his purpose, and his home. What did he do to deserve this?

As the music builds to a crescendo, he opens his eyes to take in the crowd surrounding him and the bold black and red banners before him. He stands in admiration of the Order, of its unstoppable power. How could any force of chaos overcome this?

Pride radiates through him, and he knows this is where he belongs, knows he is on the winning side. Out of all the creatures in the universe, he’s lucky enough to be one of those belonging to the First Order.

To be a Stormtrooper.

To be FN-2187.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and concrits are welcome!


	2. hatred is probably inevitable

FN-2187 is patrolling the dusty streets with FN-2003, walking past market stalls and mud-brick houses with oddly-shaped doorframes. The eclectic crowd of villagers seems to quiet around them wherever they go. People step aside, stop and eye them warily, or see them approaching and hurry indoors. A shabbily-dressed child looks at them with wide, scared eyes and gives a little gasp before darting away. FN-2187 wishes he could ignore the responses they attract. He’s not used to receiving so much staring, and their looks of fear and disdain are making him uncomfortable.

It’s not that he’s ashamed to be out in public in the distinctive black and white armor of a Stormtrooper. He’s earned that armor and wears it proudly. It’s that he knows that the people here don’t understand what it means, or what the First Order is really about. If only there was a way to teach them and bring them on board with the mission, maybe they wouldn’t fear and hate him so much.

On the other hand, he muses, hatred is probably inevitable. Wherever a group stands for order and peace, there is going to be opposition from those who thrive on chaos and anarchy. Justice is a scary thing for those who are unjust. For those who support them, though, peace is coming to the galaxy. Eventually the war will be over, and unless FN-2187 gives his life for the First Order, he will be a veteran and a hero. He imagines settling down on a planet like this, imagines befriending the villagers who are now turning away from him in fear. Maybe he’ll start a family then, after the war is over. He smiles at the thought.

In his bunk that night, he tries to go back to daydreaming about what life will be like after the First Order brings peace to the galaxy. He can’t get the image of the scared child out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked something? 
> 
> Found a mistake? 
> 
> Have a criticism? 
> 
> Comments are open!


	3. insightful and objective sources

“…for these reasons, the destruction of Alderaan was not only justified, but a wise and necessary strategic move.” FN-2187 pauses, smiling at his classmates. “Thank you.”

He nods and takes his seat, pretending to be unaffected by the round of applause they offer. He can’t help but beam, though, confident he’s just aced his communication course. And he’s earned it, too, after all the hours he’s spent in the library researching for this speech. Fortunately, the First Order has plenty of resources on hand that deal with the history of the Empire, really insightful and objective sources, not the biased bantha shit that the New Republic puts out. History is written by the winners, as they say.

“Well done, trooper,” his teacher congratulates him. “Think you’re ready to give an answer to anyone who challenges your commitment to the First Order using that argument?”

That, of course, is the main reason they’re studying communication in the first place. The First Order demands obedience, but not blind faith. There are good reasons to support the Order rather than the New Republic or the Resistance, and FN-2187 is learning them inside and out in the hope of persuading others to join the cause. 

“I am now,” he says.

“Based on your presentation, I have no doubt.” She looks over the list of remaining topics. “Okay, who’s assigned to present next week?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wise guidance? 
> 
> Effusive adoration? 
> 
> Smart-ass quips? 
> 
> Comments are open!


	4. not exactly comforting

FN-2187 sits outside the Reconditioning Center and feels his mouth go dry with anxiety. Trying to act casual, he stands up and pours a cup of caf from the machine in the waiting room. He’s been here before, and he knows that it’ll be over soon, and that he’ll feel better afterwards. It’s the pain in the meantime that he’s worried about.

_Get yourself together_ , he chides himself silently. _Enduring pain means strength. Mistakes need correction_.  It’s not exactly comforting.

The First Order wouldn’t do reconditioning on him unless he needed it, he tries to remind himself. He sits back down and aimlessly swirls the stirrer in his drink. Really, he should be grateful for the opportunity to improve his mind and become a better soldier. It’s more than what he deserves after all his failures.

He ventures a sip and doesn’t find the caf too hot. Ack, it’s nearly room temperature by now. It’ll have to do. He lifts the cup and is midway through a gulp when he hears the door to the Reconditioning Center open. Captain Phasma’s intimidating stance makes even the doorframe seem small.

“Ready?”

_No._ He nods anyway, stands, and throws the cup in a bin on the way to the door.

He is going to come out of this stronger. He is going to come out of this with a clearer mind and a more loyal heart. He is going to come out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? 
> 
> Feelings? 
> 
> Other reactions? 
> 
> Comments are open!


	5. going up in flames

The shuttle shakes as it enters the planet’s atmosphere, but it's excitement that has FN-2187 shaking. All this time running useless patrols and working in sanitation, and tonight his squad is finally about to touch down and carry out their first real mission. It should be simple: intercept the Resistance’s local contact. Capture the enemy agent. Acquire the data chip. And, if they’re lucky, leave this sandblasted junkyard of a planet behind forever.

A lifetime of training has been preparing him for this, and it’ll be over in less than an hour. Maybe it’ll leave him with exciting memories, with a story he can tell for years to come.

 

An hour later, the village is going up in flames, the dead bodies smoldering where they fell. FN-2187 feels like he’s trapped in a nightmare in which everything is wrong and upside-down. Almost as soon as they landed, FN-2003 died in his arms. Then FN-2187 had aimed his blaster, placed his finger on the trigger, realized that the target wasn’t a training droid or a simulation, but a civilian—a person with thoughts and feelings and dreams—and found that he couldn’t fire. Then Kylo Ren had ordered them to kill all the civilians, an entire village full of people, people who had sobbed and held each other close and begged for their lives and screamed in pain and finally fallen still and silent. FN-2187 couldn’t follow orders. He couldn’t stop them, either.

This is not the peace he was promised.

The fire crackles and shoots sparks into the dark night sky. FN-2187’s armor reflects orange and red light along its polished contours, and it looks like he’s on fire, too. He feels the blaze in his chest, burning down the only life he’s ever known and leaving charred destruction in its wake.

This was never about peace, was it? This was about power. It was about fear.

He turns away from the destroyed village, his fists and jaw clenching tightly, but the burning in his soul is something he carries with him. It forges his will into steely resolve; out of everything he’s suddenly doubting, he’s certain of one thing.

He’s leaving the First Order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions? 
> 
> Insights?
> 
> Random musings?
> 
> Comments are open!


	6. not made of glass

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

FN-2817 hears the constant beeping noise before he becomes aware of anything else. He’s on his back, and his body feels heavy and stiff.

_What happened?_

He tries to open his eyes, and it takes a moment for them to open and several for his vision to clear. He’s looking up at a ceiling.

“Buddy? Are you awake?” a voice says. Warmth and pressure surround his hand. He looks over to the voice and sees a familiar face. _Where do I know you from?_

“Where… where am I?” He’s surprised by the effort it takes to speak and by the hollow sound of his own voice.

“You’re in the medbay of the Resistance base,” says the man, and the words sound familiar but don’t mean anything.

FN-2817 closes his eyes and tries to remember. It’s like trying to recall a dream after waking, all shadowy impressions and confusion. Something about winter, and a red sword, and needing to protect—protect someone—and, and—

He looks at the man. The word _escape_ comes to mind. Yes, that’s right, they escaped together.

“Finn?”

And with that, all the memories come rushing back: stealing a TIE fighter with the Resistance agent, crashing on Jakku, escaping in the Millennium Falcon, going back to Starkiller for Rey, and facing Kylo Ren with Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber. Wow. It’s bizarre enough to be a dream, and it feels like one, but the man he escaped with is sitting beside him, and they’re certainly not on any Star Destroyer he’s ever seen.

“Poe? Did we win? Is Rey all right?”

“You bet we did. Starkiller is space dust now.” Poe grins. “You’re a hero. And Rey’s great. She’s coming back late tonight and bringing Luke Skywalker with her.”

FN-2817—no, _Finn_ , his name is Finn now—smiles. “Of course she is.” His smile fades, and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wait… how long was I asleep?”

“You’ve been unconscious for almost two weeks. First you were out because you took a lightsaber to the back. Then it was a medically induced coma to give you time to heal.” Finn feels Poe’s warm hand gently squeezing his, and gives it a squeeze back.

“Am I… going to be okay?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Poe nods. “Dr. Kalonia said you’ll make a full recovery. Right now you’re a little weak from being in the coma, so walking will take some getting used to. And you have a scar on your back, but come on, how many people in the galaxy can show off a scar from a kriffing _lightsaber_? Not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous.” Poe gives him a self-conscious lopsided smile.

“Okay, that is kind of cool.” Finn admits. “Is there anything to eat around here? I don’t have any money, but I can work once I get back on my feet, and—“

“You infiltrated Starkiller base and took the shields down, Finn. You helped save the galaxy. They’d give you your own buffet if you asked for it!” Poe shakes his head. “And even if you hadn’t, we’d still feed you. Of course you can have food, and a place to stay, if you want it. I’ve already put in a request for you to move into my room tomorrow—that is, if you’re okay with it.”  

“I’d like that. Thanks.”

“Okay, I have a question for you, buddy. Can we have a doctor come in and take a look at you?”

Finn gives him a blank look. “Of course. Why would I have a problem with that?”

Poe presses a button on the bedside table, then looks around and scratches the back of his head. “It’s just that… we weren’t sure how you’d handle dealing with medical professionals after… well, we don’t really know what the Order did to you, and Dr. Kalonia thought it might be better for you to wake up to a familiar face instead of doctors and med droids.”

_Oh._ Do they see him as fragile, as damaged?

“I fought off Kylo Ren with a lightsaber, Poe. I’m not made of glass. Not that your face is a bad sight to wake up to,” he teases, and Poe actually blushes a little.

A woman in a long white coat breezes into the room. “Hi, Finn. I’m Dr. Kalonia.” She pulls up a chair near the bed and sits down. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Um… good, I think? Pretty stiff though. And hungry.”

“That’s normal.” She nods understandingly. “One of our med droids is on the way with food. In the meantime, let’s talk about your recovery plan.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concrits? 
> 
> Suggestions? 
> 
> Other ideas? 
> 
> Comments are open!


	7. you're going to love it

The next morning, Finn is sitting up in bed, filling out the last of the discharge forms on a datapad, when Poe pops his head in the door.

“Hey, buddy! Ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah, just let me call in a med droid to help me out of bed. I’m going to be in a hoverchair for a few days until I finish physical therapy.” He pushes a few of the buttons at his side.

“Okay. Hey, I brought you some clothes to choose from.” Poe takes off the backpack he’s wearing. “We’re about the same size, so you’re welcome to borrow my clothes until we get you some of your own.”

“Thanks.”

Finn chooses a blue long-sleeved tee and a pair of faded black trousers, and Poe waits outside while a med droid helps Finn change and get settled into the hoverchair. Funny, Finn thinks, how only a month ago he would have judged this type of clothing to be a sure sign that someone was a lawless agent of chaos. If chaos feels like Poe’s comfortable, lived-in clothes, then sign him up for chaos. He’ll take this outfit over Stormtrooper armor any day. Soon Finn is floating out the door, and Poe is walking next to him towards the exit to the medbay.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to everybody,” says Poe. “The people here are the nicest. You’re going to love it.”

He proves it, too, waving to and greeting everyone they pass on the way to the mess hall. Finn is impressed by the way Poe seems to know everybody’s name, and they seem genuinely happy to meet Finn, too. This much personal attention is completely new to Finn, and it’s a little overwhelming.

The mess hall is buzzing and busy this time of morning, but the line moves quickly. Once they’re close enough, Finn stretches to see the dishes they’re serving.

“ _Force_ , Poe. I didn’t know there were this many breakfast foods in the whole galaxy!”

Poe grins. “Awesome! Go wild, then.” He gestures widely to the whole serving line, then adds, “Granted, not everything up here is meant for humans, so maybe don’t get too excited.”

Finn laughs. “Thanks for the warning. I guess that would end the excitement over new food pretty quickly, huh?”

Finn ends up with a tray full of tiny servings of almost everything intended for humans. He follows Poe into the dining room, where Poe helps clear a path for the hoverchair to slide through.

“Finn!” He hears his name somewhere in the crowd and looks around. Near the far wall, Rey is standing up and waving her arms to get his attention. “Come sit with us!”

“Rey!” He and Poe make their way through the dining room towards her. As they get close to her table, she beams and stretches out her arms.

“May I hug you?”

“Absolutely! Just be careful of the middle of my back.” He reaches up to her, and they share a warm embrace. “It’s so good to see you, Rey.”

“You, too, Finn! I’m so happy you’re okay. We weren’t sure at first that you’d wake up.” She stands and extends her arms to Poe, who enthusiastically hugs her back.

“How was your trip? What was it like meeting Luke Skywalker?”

“Hey laserbrain,” comes a voice behind Rey. “You’re gonna want to sit down before you get her started.” The speaker is a young woman about Finn’s age, who’s sitting at the table. “We saved you a seat.” She nods to an empty spot at the same table. “You, too. Get over here,” she says to Finn, and there’s a place next to her where she’s moved the chair out of the way. He floats over to it, and she extends her hand. “Jessika Pava, Blue Three. Nice to meet you.” They share a firm, hearty handshake.

“My name’s Finn,” he says, and wow does he love introducing himself by his new name. “It’s nice to meet you, too. How do you know Rey and Poe?”

“Rey and I just met last night, actually. We’re roommates. I’ve known this nerfherder--” she gestures to Poe, who laughs as he ditches the backpack and takes the seat across from Finn with his back to the wall—“for the last few years. We fly together on missions.”

“Cool.” Finn tastes the least-intimidating-looking food on his tray and immediately regrets not getting a bigger helping. “So were you in the battle on Starkiller?”

“Sure was.” She nods proudly. Finn notices Poe opening a bottle of pills, pouring at least one into his hand, and washing it down with his caf. _Is Poe taking drugs?_ He decides not to say anything. Who knows, maybe what the First Order taught him about drugs is a lie, too. Poe doesn’t seem like the addicts he learned about.

“Hey Jedi Master,” says Jess. “Tell the boys about your trip.”

“I’m not a Jedi!” protests Rey. “I’m just one force user learning from another force user. Luke was clear about that. He’s not re-founding the academy, just mentoring me.”

“So you’re his padawan?” asks Poe.

“No!”

“Basically. So she’s a Jedi in training,” explains Jess.

“I am not a Jedi,” Rey sighs.

Poe rolls his eyes. “You used the mind trick, read into Kylo Ren’s mind, can move objects without touching them, fought with a lightsaber, and are being trained by Luke Skywalker. Admit it, Rey, you’re a Jedi. Even if you don’t use the title, it's the exact same thing.” Rey’s blush shows up bright against her fair skin.

“Wait, really?” Finn interjects. “You’ll have to fill me in, Rey.”

Rey sees her chance and takes it. “I’d love to! So before you showed up on Starkiller..." she begins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As always, comments are open.


	8. I don't want to be wrong again

Finn scrunches up his face and tries to focus on calming down. He can’t let everyone in the assembly see him losing it over nothing. And it is over nothing—all they did was sing a Resistance fight song and sit while General Organa gave an inspirational message to the fighters, specifically to those who will be leaving on the latest campaign this afternoon. He likes listening to her, and she hasn’t said anything he’s opposed to. So why does Finn feel like he’s going to burst, and why is he sitting on his hands to keep them from shaking?

He tries to ignore the panic that’s taking over his body. The general is saying something about self-sacrifice and being remembered, but it’s drowned out in yet another wave of nausea. His thoughts start to race, and the one idea that yells louder than the rest is _must get out of here_. Almost without thinking about it, he stands up, bolts out of the assembly, rushes down the hall, and ducks into the nearest fresher. Once he’s locked himself in, he can gasp for breath as loudly as he needs to. He slides to the floor, overwhelmed by embarrassment, panic, and shame. Nausea strikes again, and he leans over the toilet and loses his breakfast.

When he can’t throw up any more, he crumples to the floor, shaking and dry heaving and fighting back tears. It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s going crazy.

Slowly, in something of a daze, he picks himself up, splashes cold water on his face, and stumbles back into the hallway without a thought of where to go from there.

“Finn? Come sit with me.” Jess is sitting on the floor with her back to the wall.

He doesn’t have an excuse not to, so he plops down next to her.

“Here.” She digs around in the flat pouch strapped to her thigh and then hands him something small, yellow, and round. “It’s an anti-nausea tab. You dissolve it on your tongue. Or you keep them around for bartering with the rookie pilots. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Finn places the tab on his tongue, and it fizzes spicy and sweet. His stomach calms almost immediately.

“You looked like something was wrong. I came to find you, and I, uh, heard you throwing up. I’m guessing it wasn’t non-human foodstuff that was the problem?”

Finn looks at her, and he trusts her intuitively, the same way he trusted Rey on Jakku. He shakes his head. She passes him her canteen, and he takes a sip and swishes the water around in his mouth before swallowing. “Thanks.”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it. Or if you just want to sit and wait until you feel better.” She shrugs. “Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“I don’t know what it was,” he blurts out. “I just started freaking out in there.”

“Hmm.” Jess is deep in thought. “Was there something about it that was new to you? Something unexpected?”

“Not really. We used to have meetings sort of like that, music and a speech by someone. Usually General Hux. But I never freaked out in those.”

“What was different here?”

Finn hesitates, turning the question over in his mind before answering. A flash of insight hits him. “It wasn’t what was different. It’s that it was the same.” Jess raises her eyebrows. “I know, but hear me out on this. We used to have meetings like that, just more formal. I didn’t freak out during those because I believed it. I mean, I’m surrounded by thousands of troopers like me, hearing what I’m certain is true, really _feeling_ it, Jess. And then everything falls apart.” His voice strains as he remembers that night on Jakku. “And now I’m in a meeting, surrounded by people who all agree on something, and I don’t know if I believe it or not.” He sighs, and adds in a voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t want to get it wrong again. That’s what it is. I’m alone, I don’t know what to think, and I don’t want to be wrong again.” He looks up at her, and she meets his eyes and nods with understanding.

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Yeah, it does, now that I say it. No wonder I’m a mess.”

“Hey, you’re allowed to be a mess. You’re _our_ mess.” She smiles. “Have you talked to your therapist about it?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t have one. I’ve had enough people screwing around in my head to last me a lifetime.”

“That wasn’t part of your recovery plan?”

“Oh, it was. They can’t force me to do it, though.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, not everyone in the assembly was thinking the exact same thing. I, for one, am way too cynical to be inspired by that stuff.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “You aren’t totally committed to the Resistance?”

“Of course I am! I wouldn’t be flying my squadron into battle without a second thought if I wasn’t. I would die for this group of people, Finn. I’m all in for the Resistance, but that”—she jerks her head to indicate the assembly—“is not the Resistance. That’s a glorified pep rally. You’re allowed to disagree with some parts of it, or find it silly, or use the excuse that you’re checking up on your friend to get out of sitting through it.” She winks, and he chuckles. “You can think for yourself here.”

“I know I’m _allowed_ to. I just don’t know if I _can_ ,” he emphasizes. His voice takes on a note of frustration. “I did a pretty poor job of it for the first twenty years of my life. What’s preventing me from fucking it up again? How do I know I haven’t just gone from one side in a war to the other?”

“Well, if you want me to just give you answers, you’re out of luck. You’re going to have to investigate for yourself to figure out what you believe. But trust me on this, this whole question of not knowing what to believe and feeling afraid of getting it wrong and hurting people? That’s not an ‘I was kidnapped and brainwashed by a military cult’ thing. No offense. That’s an ‘I’m a sentient being’ thing. You’re not alone in trying to figure that out. Sometimes we don’t know for sure, but we have to do our best to do the right thing anyway, as best as we know how with the information we have. And yeah, sometimes we get it wrong, but we learn from our mistakes and try to do better next time.” She shrugs. “That’s life.”

 _That isn’t life with the First Order_ , he thinks. There’s always a right and wrong answer. Mistakes need correction.

He doesn’t answer right away, and they sit in silence for a minute or two.

“You said I’m going to have to investigate for myself, right?” he asks. “Does this place have a library?”

Jess breaks out into a grin. She springs up from the floor and extends her hand to him. “Come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I most definitely got the idea of the Resistance having fight songs from beautifullights's amazing fic [you promise me, my life.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6051894?view_full_work=true) I highly recommend it, especially if you love reading about complex characters, freaking out over fictional people, and letting yourself become emotionally devastated. Go check it out!


	9. it's not blood

Finn is running across sand under a glaring sun. He’s searching for something. Smoke is rising in a column in front of him, and he rushes over to its source. It’s a crashed TIE fighter. Wreckage is strewn across the sand, but the body looks mostly intact. Finn peers inside. There’s Poe, still wearing his jacket, looking up at him with pain in his eyes and blood on his face. The crash lurches as the sand shifts under it. Finn reaches for Poe and tries to pull him out, but it’s no use. He’s trapped. Poe raises his hand and smears bloody fingers across Finn’s face. Finn screams. Sand pours in to swallow them up, and they’re falling into it—

 

Finn’s eyes fly open. It’s dark. He’s in his bunk, safe in bed in the Resistance base, though he’s panting and soaked with sweat. Poe is still alive, sleeping with his arm hanging off the top bunk, and it’s all Finn can do not to hold onto it and take his pulse just to be sure. Finn wipes his face with his sleeve. It’s just sweat. It’s not blood, not his or Poe’s or FN-2003's. He shudders.

[Friend-Finn okay?] chirps BB-8 softly from beside the bed. [Friend-Finn had a--?] It finishes the question with a sound that Finn doesn’t know the translation for.

“Had a what?” Finn whispers.

BB-8 repeats the sound. [Organic charges], it explains, and Finn smiles in spite of himself because [sleep] and [charge] being the same word in Binary will never stop being funny, even after such a horrifying dream. [Organic imagines something bad. Organic scared.]

“Yeah. Spell that out for me?”

Finn tries to make sense of the word, guessing from his limited knowledge of Binary. “Nightmare?”

[Affirmative.] BB-8 nods.

“Yeah, BB. I had a nightmare.”

[Want to talk about it?]

“Not really. Thanks, though. I think I’m just going to try to get back to sleep.” He straightens the tangled sheets, gathers them around him, and turns his pillow over. 

[Friend-Finn will be okay] whistles BB-8 encouragingly. [Friend-Poe has nightmares, too.]

“Really? I didn’t know.”

[Friend-Finn charges during it. Can Friend-Finn not tell Friend-Poe that BB-8 told Friend-Finn that?]

“Got it.” Finn pats the little droid’s head.

[BB-8 has a song for charging] it offers helpfully. [It helps Friend-Poe. Maybe it helps Friend-Finn, too.]

“Sure, BB. I’ll give it a try.”

A moment later, Finn hears BB-8 start to play a recording. It’s Poe’s voice, and he's singing in what Finn assumes is his native language. The song is a beautiful melody of long, deep notes, and Poe has such a soothing voice, especially in this language with its bold vowels and rolled r sounds. Maybe he can talk Poe into singing for him sometime.

He yawns and settles in, carried off to sleep before the second verse ends. He sleeps in peace for the rest of the night.


	10. lies that gave us hope

Finn sets down the datapad and looks up at the stars. That’s enough about informal logical fallacies for one night. The bushes rustle behind him, and Rey enters the clearing.

“Oh, sorry, Finn! I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No worries. I’m not bothered. Are you looking for something?”

“Just a place to stargaze.”

Finn gestures to the sky above them. “Looks like you found it.” He smiles. “Unless you’d rather be alone, in which case…” His voice trails off when Rey lies down on her back next to him and laces her fingers behind her head.

They lie on the mossy grass for some time, watching the stars, quiet except for a contented sigh by Rey. A month ago, Finn would have said something just to break the silence, but he’s learning to treasure the unspoken closeness these moments give. Finally she speaks: “The stars here are different than I’m used to. Look at that constellation, the four stars in a rectangle,” she points. “From Jakku, you can see those same four stars, but three of them make a straight line.”

“Did you get to see the stars much? Or do you know from studying navigation?”

“I used to sit outside my AT-AT in the evenings and watch the sun set and the stars come out. I would look up at the sky and tell myself that my family was out there, and that they were coming back for me any day now. ‘Any day now,’ for thirteen years.” She shakes her head. “I lied to myself for a really long time. The truth is, my family abandoned me. I carried around this hope that they would come back and take me away, and everything would be better.” She turns her head to him and smiles. “Eventually you came and got me out, and things really are better. I’m so much happier here. But it’s still hard to grieve that lost hope, you know?”

“Yeah.” Finn nods. “It’s not exactly the same, but the Order promised that we were destined to win the war and bring peace and stability to the galaxy. I fell for it, hard. Turns out reality really is chaotic, and there’s no guarantee that good wins in the end. I mean, what we called ‘chaos’ is really more like ‘freedom,’ but even then, freedom is terrifying! I’m still figuring out what clothes and foods and music I like—how am I supposed to know what I want to do with my life?” He sighs. “I’d never go back to the First Order, but there’s a little part of me that misses the security that came from knowing that there was always a right answer, that my life would turn out just right. That everything would be okay.”

“I get that,” Rey says softly. “I think it’s okay to grieve for a lie that gave you hope. That’s what they were. Lies that gave us hope. We wouldn’t have believed them for so long if they didn’t.”

“Hmm.” Finn ponders the truth in her words. They share a few more seconds of silence.

“Maz told me that I’d find the belonging I was seeking ahead of me, not behind me. I think she was right. I have you, Jess, Poe, and Luke, and, well,” she smiles, “I’ve started to think of you as my family.”

“Rey, that’s awesome! You can be part of my family, too. I never knew my family, and I probably never will, but if we're choosing families, you're in.”

“Thanks, Finn.” She finds his hand in the dark and gives it an affectionate squeeze. He returns the favor. Her hands are small but strong and calloused from hard work. Life has not been kind to her.  Her laugh is unexpected.

“What’s so funny?”

“If we’re family, and you’re the one who got me off Jakku, then in a way, my family did come for me after all.” She makes a stern face. “You shouldn’t have taken so long.” She laughs again, and he can’t help but laugh with her.

“I guess you got what you were hoping for after all.”

“I guess so!” She looks into his eyes with earnestness. “I wish the same for you, Finn. I wish for you to find peace. Even if it’s not in the way you expect, either.”

“Thanks. I wish for that, too.”

He squeezes her hand again, and they both look up in silence at the stars.


	11. these are good memories

[Friend-Finn angry?] beeps BB-8 from across the room.

Finn looks up from the datapad and presses his fingertips to his temples.

“No, BB-8. Just confused.”

[Can BB-8 help?]

“I don’t think so, pal. It’s just that, well, I’ve been trying to catch up on history, and this overview of the Battle of Endor is totally different from what I learned about the attack on the second Death Star.” He huffs in frustration. “So unless you have a time machine—“

He’s cut off by BB-8’s excited whistling and beeping. The little droid is whirring around in circles.

“Slow down, BB! I can’t understand you.”

[Follow BB-8!] it chortles, and takes off down the hall. Finn rushes to follow it. He’s so focused on trying to catch up that he doesn’t see where the astromech is leading him until they’re standing in front of Luke Skywalker’s apartment and BB-8 is already reaching a metal arm up and buzzing the doorbell.

“BB! What are you doing? You can’t just bother Luke Skywalker!”

The door slides open, and there stands the legendary Jedi master himself. Finn stops short, feeling his face flush. Thank the Force his skin is too dark for his blush to be obvious.

“I am so sorry, Mister Skywalker— _Master_ Skywalker, I mean—we didn’t mean to intrude—I just followed my friend’s droid here, and—come on BB-8, let’s go,” he stammers, at a loss.

Skywalker looks at Finn curiously, then looks down at BB-8, who lets loose a shrill, excited string of Binary.

Luke’s smile lights up his whole face. “Really?” he asks the droid. R2-D2 wheels up behind Luke, and both droids seem to be begging him for something. Finn hears the sounds for “please,” “battle,” and “Friend-Finn” somewhere in there. What has he gotten into?

“Yes, that’s a lovely idea. R2, go tell C-3PO what our little friend here just told us, and see if you can get him and Leia to join us.”

[Yes, Master-Luke!] whistles R2-D2 as he scoots past Finn and coasts out of sight around a corner.

“Come on inside,” Skywalker welcomes them in. His apartment is sparsely furnished yet still somehow homey. “Have a seat.” Finn picks a spot on the couch and sits down. Skywalker wanders into the kitchen and begins to fill a kettle with water. “Do you drink tea?”

“I’ve never tried it, sir.”

“Please, call me Luke.” He sets the kettle on the stove. “And you’re Finn. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Finn searches for a reply and realizes he’s just staring up at Luke with his mouth open. “Thanks. You, too.” Luke takes cups down from a cabinet and spoons out of a drawer and begins to arrange them on a tray. The silence in the air doesn’t seem to bother him, but Finn still wonders if he should say something. How do you make small talk with a man who’s more myth than human? Eventually Luke is the one to break the silence. 

“So I take it your friend’s BB unit didn’t tell you why it brought you to me?” Luke’s eyes twinkle with amusement.

“No. I’m still not sure why I’m here.”

[Sorry, Friend-Finn] whistles BB-8 apologetically. [BB-8 was a little excited.] Luke laughs.

“He says you need a firsthand account of the Battle of Endor. It just so happens that I have one.”

Finn raises his eyebrows and leans in. “You were part of the Battle of Endor?”

“Not the battle proper, but I was part of the landing team. If Leia can make it, she’ll fill you in on the rest. It’s too bad Chewie left; he would have enjoyed this, too.”

In almost no time at all, the kettle’s whistling, the doorbell’s ringing, and General Organa herself is striding into the room, followed by her golden protocol droid and Luke’s astromech. She greets Luke with a quick hug and takes a seat next to Finn on the couch. C-3PO pulls up a chair from the kitchen table, and Luke carries the tea tray into the living room, sets it on a low table, and sits down in an armchair.

Luke pours the tea into cups and hands one to General Organa and one to Finn. The cup is warm and comforting. He takes a deep breath and gets a faraway look in his eyes. “This is the story of the Battle of Endor…” he begins, but his sister cuts him off with a laugh.

“You always were so dramatic, Luke.” She shakes her head. “First, Finn, what do you already know about the battle?”

“Not much. I learned that the Rebellion damaged the second Death Star’s reactor core with shots from a smuggling freighter, and that it was able to get in because the Rebels took down the shield that was generated from Endor. They landed on the moon and incited a native species to attack an Imperial outpost there.”

C-3PO speaks up. “It appears your information is correct.”

“Is it true that the natives were savage, bear-like monsters?”

General Organa snorts. The corners of her mouth twitch, and she covers her face with her hand. _What…?_ The laughter she’s trying to hold back explodes out of her, loud and clear. Luke smiles and shakes his head. It’s a moment before she regains her composure. Finn notices how nice it is to see her face with smile creases near her eyes instead of the usual lines of worry and grief. She and Luke are telling him this story because they want to remember it, he realizes, not because they feel the need to correct him. These are good memories. He feels less like a project and more like a friend. 

“I’m so sorry, Finn, I’m not laughing at _you_ ,” she reassures him. “But no, the Ewoks are nothing like that. Primitive? Sure. Like bears? In appearance, maybe. Actually—“ she turns to R2-D2. “Do you have a holo of any of them?”

R2 whistles an agreement and shines an image of a furry creature standing on two legs, wearing some kind of drape on its head and shoulders. It doesn’t look intimidating at all. Actually, it’s kind of cute.

“That’s it?” Finn asks. “How big are they?”

“About a meter,” she answers.

Finn shakes his head. “Man, the First Order has no business teaching history. Okay, so set me straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me your feelings, thoughts, and other reactions in the comments!


	12. you need to breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter contains a description of a PTSD flashback.

Jess leans over Finn to swipe his glass off the table just in time to prevent it from spilling all over both of them. Rey and Poe are at it again, stealing each other’s food and sparring at their cramped table near the edge of the cafeteria. Neither his combat training nor her experience defending her food from other scavengers gave them much practice in watching out for innocent dishes, so Jess has taken that duty upon herself.

Poe had started it this time, with a quick snatch of a gelatin square and a sideways smirk that said, _so what are you going to do about it?_ In a flash Rey’s hand was around his wrist, just in front of his open mouth, and like that, they were off.

“I swear, you two are worse than the twins I used to babysit.” Jess throws them an exaggerated eye roll. She and Finn share a look and shake their heads.

“Hey!” Poe shouts through a mouthful of gelatin as he looks down at his plate. Rey laughs, holding a soft wheat roll in both hands near the shoulder farther from him.

“The last sentient creature who stole my food got my quarterstaff across his face,” Rey taunts. “I think I’m going soft, only taking this.”

“Rey, the last creature to steal your food was Poe. Yesterday.” Finn points out.

“She did say _sentient_ creature,” deadpans Jess, prompting a grin from Rey.

Poe huffs in pretend annoyance and shoots Jess an unimpressed look.  

He leans over the corner of the table and gets his arms around Rey’s waist, dragging her out of her chair. She squeals and pulls one arm free, poking him in a ticklish spot above his hip. It’s just enough to loosen his grip, and she slips out from under it while he makes a face that Finn can’t help but laugh at.

“Oh, no you don’t!” yells Poe.

“Stop me.”

She’s about to cram the entire roll in her mouth when Poe suddenly has both her arms above her head, one wrist in each of his hands.

“Not so fast, scavenger! You’re no match for the reflexes of the greatest pilot in the galaxy!” His voice jokes, but his eyes gleam with competitive stubbornness.

“Then why am I still holding your bread?” she asks, eyebrows raised in a feisty dare.

Despite her struggles, he takes both her wrists in one of his hands, freeing his other hand to take back his roll, and starts to pry her fingers open. “Uncivilized nerfherder,” he pretends to grumble at her. “You can’t just take a man’s bread.”

“You think I survived on Jakku by being civilized?” She leans in toward his face. “I can take whatever I want.”

Poe freezes.

His eyes are vacant and terrified, and he lets go of Rey and stumbles back into his seat.

Rey gasps in realization and puts a hand over her mouth. “Oh, _fuck_ , Poe, I’m so sorry—”

Finn has no idea what’s happening to Poe, but it doesn’t look good. Poe is completely pale, he’s shaking and gasping for breath, and he’s still staring straight ahead with that wild, panicked expression. His mouth is moving, but he’s not saying anything, just mouthing _no, no, no,_ over and over. Finn starts to reach towards him, but Jess puts her hand up to stop him.

“Poe,” Jess’s voice is firm but calm. “What you’re seeing isn’t real. You’re safe now. You’re on D’Qar. We’re having lunch with Rey and Finn, our friends. You are going to be okay, but you need to breathe.”

Poe squeezes his eyes shut. His breathing relaxes a little, though it’s still ragged. Jess continues: “That’s right, champ, breathe for me… in and out… in and out… You’re sitting in the mess hall of the Resistance base. You’re free, and you’re safe, and I know this is scary but it can’t hurt you. Now breathe in and out… ”

She keeps talking like this for what feels like hours, but it’s probably only a few minutes. Eventually Poe opens his eyes and looks around at their concerned expressions.

“Hey everybody, nice to be back. Did I miss anything?” He’s still pale, and his voice shakes, but the light is back in his eyes, and he seems himself again.

“Poe! I’m so sorry—I should have known better—I didn’t mean to--” Rey starts.

He shoots her a cocky grin. “Looks like you win this round, padawan.”

He gently takes her hand, picks up what’s left of the squished roll, and places it in her open palm. She looks at him like she’s about to cry. His gentle, dark brown eyes meet hers.

“It’s okay, Rey. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault—anyone here, I mean. The triggers are going to be there, so I might as well face them with my friends nearby. I know you would never try to hurt me.” He closes her fingers around the roll and smirks. “But if you even think about swiping from my tray next time they serve nut butter cookies, I’m not going easy on you.”

The tension in her face melts into a mischievous smile. “Your nut butter cookies don’t stand a chance.”

Poe looks over at Jessika. “Thanks, Jess. That helped a lot.”

“Any time,” she says casually. “I think that’s the fastest I’ve seen you pull through one of those. Way to make progress.”

“You think so?”

“Sure do. Why don’t you go lie down for a little while? We’ve got about half an hour left for lunch.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You damn well better be. Go rest.”

Poe opens his mouth like he’s about to protest, then stops himself. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. Slowly, delicately, he piles up the used napkins and miscellaneous trash from the table onto his tray and takes it with him.

Once Poe leaves, Finn works up the nerve to ask about him.

“So, uh… what just happened? Is Poe okay?”

“A flashback,” Jess answers. “It happens after a traumatic experience. Some people can re-live the trauma when something happens to remind them of it. It’s like a bad memory, but it feels like it’s really happening. Poe’s been getting them ever since he came back from the mission on Jakku.”

“What I said right before the flashback was something that Kylo Ren said to me when he tried to invade my mind.” Rey pauses, her lips in a tight line. “I didn’t realize until after I said it. I assume he said that, or something similar, during his interrogation of Poe, too.”

“So he reacted like that because it felt like he was facing Kylo Ren on the _Finalizer_ , all over again?”

Rey and Jess nod. Two thoughts pop into Finn’s mind at the same time. One is _Poe is the bravest and strongest person I know_. The other is _Poe is weak and broken_. Finn pushes the second away and chooses admiration over contempt.

“Will he be in trouble when they find out he’s…?” Finn stops the question there. _Malfunctioning_ is the word that comes to mind, but he knows they don’t use that word to describe people here.

Jess doesn’t wait for him to find the right word. “No! Of course not! He’d be invited to meet with a therapist if he wasn’t doing that already. But that’s not a punishment, it’s to help him get better.”

Right. And reconditioning wasn’t a punishment, either.

“What do I do if--” Finn pauses, “if that happens again?”

“Just stay calm and don’t freak out yourself.” Jess shrugs. “If you want to try and talk him through it, that helps sometimes. Get him to rest afterwards. Oh, and don’t touch him. It startles him, and he fights back.” Finn decides not to ask her if she knows that from personal experience. “Honestly, he’s going a great job managing it on his own. He’s seeing his therapist, getting sleep when he can, and taking his medication. I’m sure he’d love your support, but the last thing he wants is your pity.”

"So that’s why he takes pills at breakfast." That explains that.

“Kriff!” shouts Rey. She looks up from her tray and scowls toward the door through which Poe left. “That punk stole half my chocolate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I haven't experienced a flashback myself, nor have I watched someone else have one, so I was a little hesitant to write about it. If you have, I'd be grateful for any advice or corrections you can share!


	13. holding soft things just feels nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely the fluffiest chapter so far. 
> 
> Pun 100% intended.

Finn is walking back to the room he shares with Poe when he notices a small box outside their door, and his red flags go up. His training tells him that mysterious packages could hold explosives or chemical weapons, so he approaches it slowly, cautiously. When he’s close enough, he sees that it’s addressed to him. _Odd._ Why would anyone be leaving him a box?

He tiptoes around it and enters the room, deciding not to touch it until he has more information. Maybe someone saw who left it. He climbs into his bunk, turns on his datapad, and gets lost in an interactive Binary tutorial.

“Buddy! You got a package!” Poe walks through the door, beaming and carrying the suspicious box.

“Poe! Don’t touch that! I don’t know what it is; it could be dangerous!”

Poe frowns. “Dangerous?” He sets the box on his desk. “This is intra-base mail. See the logo on the side?” He looks genuinely concerned. “Finn, do you think someone on base would send you something harmful?”

Finn breathes a sigh of relief and shakes his head. “No. If it came from someone here, it’s probably fine.”

“Good.” Poe looks at Finn expectantly, and Finn isn’t sure why. After an awkward pause, Poe adds, “Well then, what are you waiting for? Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

“Oh. Right.” He hops off the bed.

“Here.” Poe hands him the small knife he carries around with him. “Is this your first time getting mail?”

“I think so.” Finn unfolds the knife, cuts the tape on the top of the box, and opens the flaps. He pulls out the first thing he sees, an envelope. Within it is an elegant notecard embossed with a calligraphic letter “O”. The inside reads:

_Dear Finn,_

_I enjoyed our visit with Luke and the droids last week, and I hope you did, too. It meant so much to me to re-live those memories, especially those of Han as he was back then. Thank you for listening to our story and having the courage to reconsider what you grew up learning. I’m deeply grateful you found your way here—you’re a good man and a joy to have around. Please accept my best wishes for your recovery, and please let me know if I can help you in any way._

_Sincerely,_

_Leia_

Finn sinks to his bunk, choking up and with tears starting to well up in his eyes.

“Finn? You okay? What are you thinking?” Poe sits down beside him on the bed and puts an arm around his shoulders.

“How are people here so nice?” Finn asks, voice straining. He holds the card out for Poe to read. “The general wrote me a note. I got a hand-written note, Poe. From a commanding officer. I got mail with my _name_ on it. She likes having me around and offered to help in my recovery. How is this even real?”

“General Organa is an amazing woman.” Poe nods. “And the people here are the best. She’s right, you know: you’re a good man, and you’re brave, and we like being around you. You deserve all the kindness we can give you, especially after all you’ve been through.” Poe hugs his shoulders, and Finn leans into the embrace.

 “Oh, wait!” Finn sits up. “There was more in the box.” He stand up, reaches in the box, and pulls out something soft and furry. It’s a teddy bear shaped like an Ewok, with dark brown fur and a green hood.

“Aww! It’s adorable.” Finn runs his fingers through the soft fur. “But aren’t these usually for children?” He learned about teddy bears when he researched strategies for coping with nightmares.

Poe shrugs. “Sometimes, but not always. I don’t think the general meant to call you childish, if that’s what you’re wondering. She probably has some maternal affection towards you, though. I mean, you kind of missed out on a normal childhood, and she’s grieving for her son.”

It makes sense, in its own sad way. “Yeah. I did tell her the Ewoks were cute and that I wanted one as a pet.”

“There you go, then. Plus, it looks seriously soft, and holding soft things just feels nice.” Poe’s right—it does feel nice. He hands it to Poe.

“Well, if you ever want to hold it, you’re welcome to borrow it.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Poe nestles his fingers into the fluff. “Ready to go to dinner?” he asks, handing the Ewok back. Finn looks down at it.

“Do you think I’d catch flack for bringing it with me?”

“Because it’s childish? No way! Rey mentioned she played with a doll she made herself. Jess likes coloring. I like bubble baths and cartoons.” Poe gives him that sideways, self-conscious smile. “Just because it’s for kids doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. We all understand that.”

“Okay, good.” Finn stands up and tucks it under his arm. “You’re sure no one will give me a hard time?”

“We never do.” Poe stands up and nods. As they make their way to the doorway, he adds, “Well, there was that one time when Snap wore a Snuggie for three days straight after a nasty breakup, but that was less because of the Snuggie and more because he was being a mopey drama queen about it. This is totally different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, dear readers. This chapter was cute when I imagined it, but I had a hard time trying to avoid making it sappy or infantilizing Finn (seriously, the first draft was AWFUL), and I'm still not sure it works. Whether you liked it or not, would you do me a favor and let me know how it came across to you?


	14. mistakes need correction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Okay, so in case you missed the tag, this chapter comes with a huge trigger warning for self-harm, including a description of self-inflicted wounds, the tool used for self-harm, and a character's rationalization for it. Seriously, if this is a thing for you, please stay safe and hit the back button now. Speaking as someone who's self-harmed after ignoring tags on fic, IT'S NOT WORTH IT. The story will still be here when you're in a healthier place.

Poe wanders into the room he shares with Finn, feeling his adrenaline high fade into tiredness. He’s sweaty and warm, even with the top of his flight suit off and the sleeves tied around his waist. What a night. Jess is well on her way to mastering the L’ullo stand he always promised he’d teach her someday, and she’s probably still up there practicing, but he’s forgotten how nerve-wracking it is to teach someone moves that could crash their ship if they’re off by a fraction of a second. It’s given him a new reverence for his mother, who taught it to him.

He’s barely past the doorframe when he nearly trips on Finn’s second pair of shoes, which he sets aside with a sigh. Their room is a perfect demonstration of the Pareto principle: Finn owns about 20 percent of the objects in the room and about 80 percent of the clutter. Maybe it’s more, actually. He has eight shirts, and right now five of them are in heaps on the floor, with another one wadded up on his unmade bed. Poe is baffled—it’s not like Finn doesn’t know how organization works, and he’s not lazy, nor has he forgotten that, as homey as their room feels, it’s still technically a military barracks. Maybe it’s some sort of freedom thing, or he’s going through a rebellious teenage phase a few years too late. Yeah, Poe is definitely going to have to say something about the mess. Oh, and the light in the fresher is left on again. _Argh._ It’s a silly pet peeve, but he can’t help reaching in and—

His heart seems to stop.

“Finn, _what the hell?”_

Finn is sitting on the toilet lid, holding a bottle of Corellian whiskey. Bloody gashes crisscross his wrists and forearms. He looks up at Poe with red and bloodshot eyes, and there are tear tracks running down his face. Poe feels his heart break inside his chest.

“ _Alderaan_ ,” Finn whispers, and tries to take a swig from the bottle, spilling as much of it onto his shirt as he gets into his mouth. Poe doesn’t know how much liquor was in the bottle when Finn got it, but there isn’t much left.

“Finn, what—“

Finn shouts back, slowly enunciating and obviously trying to compensate for the alcohol slurring his words. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the truth about Alderaan and the Hosnian system?”

_Oh shit._

Poe takes a deep breath. Reaching for the bottle, he says in his most calming voice, “I think that’s enough to drink, buddy, don’t you? What did you find out about Alderaan and the Hosnian system?”

Finn lets Poe take the bottle away. “Not just military ‘n p’litical targets. Billions of people. Dead.”

Poe tries to keep a calm appearance, but he feels like he’s dying inside. He checks both of Finn’s hands for whatever made the cuts on his arms. Good, he’s not still holding it. “Oh yeah? What happened to your arms, Finn? You’re bleeding.” He notices a bloody razor blade on the bathroom counter, surrounded by tiny twisted pieces of plastic from the razor Finn took apart to get it. Acid burns the back of Poe’s throat as he throws up a little.

“Helped kill billions of people,” Finn explains, as if that makes any sense. “Mistakes need correction.”

If Poe wasn’t dead set on burning the entire First Order to the ground before, he is now. But that’ll have to wait until after he gets Finn to the medbay. He gently puts an arm around Finn and helps him to his feet. “Let’s walk and talk, buddy.”

Fortunately, Finn doesn’t fight him. He can walk, but just barely, and not in a straight line without Poe’s help. Poe guides him around the dirty laundry on the floor and out into the hallway.

“I defended what happened to Alderaan.”

“You didn’t know any better.”  

“Billions of people, Poe.” Finn sobs. Poe side-hugs his shoulders and steers him towards the medbay.

“I know, buddy. You’re going to be okay.”

“Istnot okay,” he slurs. “I worked on Starkiller. Was my job. I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster; you’re my friend.” Poe’s voice strains. “You also helped us destroy Starkiller, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter. Mistakes need correction,” Finn repeats. Poe feels another surge of anger burning inside of him at the lies the First Order has etched into his friend.

“Yeah, what happened to Alderaan and Hosnian Prime wasn’t okay. But telling you that you deserve pain because they lied to you _also_ isn’t okay. None of this is your fault.” Poe realizes after he’s said it that arguing with a drunk man isn’t going to do much good. Then again, he never really was one for holding his tongue. “Do your arms hurt now?”

“A little. Not really.”

“Well, we can give you something to help with that, okay? Just keep walking; we’re almost there.”

“I know how to endure pain!” Finn snaps.

Poe swallows and fights back tears. He answers in a soft, broken voice, “I believe you.” 


	15. are we ever going to be okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter contains a depiction of PTSD symptoms and mentions of self-harm.

Poe is almost to the medbay with Finn when Rey comes rushing up to them, frantic, with mud on her robes and shoes. She’s out of breath, and her hair is tangled in twigs and slipping out of its usually-neat buns.

“Finn! Poe! Are you two all right?”

“No,” Poe shakes his head. “Finn needs a doctor. Please, go tell the medbay staff we’re on our way. Tell them he needs to be checked for alcohol poisoning, and he might need stitches, or at least first aid for”—the words catch in his throat—“for self-inflicted wounds.”

Rey, to her credit, simply nods and takes off.

As soon as they arrive at the medbay, an orderly and a med droid take Finn, and another med droid wheels up and asks to speak with Poe. It escorts him to a side room, and Rey is already sitting there, fidgeting and bouncing her legs anxiously.

The med droid asks Poe questions about Finn’s condition. It wants to know everything: how much did he drink? What was used to make the cuts? How long has he been bleeding? Poe tries to answer with as much information as he can, but the questions keep coming in rapid succession, and the room seems to shrink around him.

The questions keep coming, and his friend is in danger. He has to protect him. The lights are too bright, and the room is too small. He feels his pulse going wild, and it’s too much like his nightmares and most painful memories.

“Stop!” His voice sounds desperate, even to him. He stands up and braces himself with one hand on the wall. “Please, I’ve told you everything I know. Don’t hurt him. Please, just let me go, I can’t—”

Next thing he knows, he’s running down the hallway, flinging open the doors that lead outside, and collapsing to his knees. He gasps for the cool night air like he can’t get enough of it.

 _Grounding_. He touches the cold, hard concrete under him. He feels his familiar flight suit. He smells motor oil and his own sweat. He is safe, and yet it is okay to feel anxious. Anxious feelings are uncomfortable, but they cannot harm him. He takes a deep, slower breath.

“Poe?”

Poe jumps, annoyed at his hyperactive startle reflex for the thousandth time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Didn’t mean to be startled.” He meant it as a joke, but it comes out hollow and bitter.

Rey closes the door behind them. “I thought you were worried for Finn. I didn’t realize you were having a flashback until it was too late. Is it over now?”

He turns to her, sitting and pulling his knees up to his chest. “It wasn’t a flashback. I just needed some air.” He sighs, and his voice is flat. “Okay, so that’s not completely true. I didn’t feel like I was there again, but it did feel like an interrogation. Just one more thing to bring up in my therapy appointment tomorrow.”

“Would you like a hug, or would you rather not be touched?”

“Hugs. Please.” She throws her arms around him, and he rests his head on her shoulder. All the tears he tried to hold back around Finn spill over now, and he clings to Rey as sobs shake through his body. She holds him close and runs her fingers through his hair.

“Poe, dear, you’re going to be okay,” she tries to reassure him. He pulls back and sees that she’s crying, too.

“It’s not okay,” he protests. “Finn is in there bleeding, and I couldn’t do anything. I can’t even answer questions without freaking out—how did I ever think I could take care of him?”

“Poe, none of this is your fault.”

“I’m pretty sure I said the same thing to Finn on the way over here.” He gives an ironic half-laugh. “For what it’s worth, he didn’t believe it, either.” He slumps against her.

She goes back to stroking his hair. Letting conversations die never seemed to bother her, he knows that by now, but it bothers him.

“How did you know that Finn wasn’t okay?”

“I felt him through the Force. I was meditating up on the mountain, and suddenly I felt him suffering. He was overwhelmed by grief at first, and then anger. He had a lot of hatred, but mixed with compassion, which confused me. I took off down the mountain, and it’s probably only because of the Force that I didn’t break my ankle or something by running in the dark. Soon after that I felt that he was in pain.”

“Rey, when you saw us, you asked if both of us were all right.” He swallows. “Did you… did you sense me through the Force?”

“I did.” He cringes. “I understand if you have a problem with anyone using the Force to sense things about you. But I wasn’t trying to infringe on your thoughts and feelings. It was totally involuntary, I promise.”

“I know. It’s just that… yeah. You get it.”

“I was halfway down the mountain when I felt your suffering. It was pretty similar: grief, then anger, then compassion mixed with hatred. I thought you both had had the same thing happen to you, actually. You had a lot more fear, though.”

“Sounds about right.” He plucks a twig out of her hair. “And the Force showed you where to find us?” She nods.

"It led me right to you." 

“Thanks for coming for us.”

“Of course! I couldn’t stay away knowing you were hurting.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You are too, you know. Even if you don’t believe it yet.”

“I have my doubts.” She hugs him closer. After a few moments he asks, “Rey? Are we ever going to be okay?”

“I can’t promise that,” she says gently. “But I believe it. And I'd like to find out together.”


	16. the opposite of how things should be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self-harm is still in effect.

When Poe opens the door to his room, BB-8 has already finished in the hangar and is there waiting for him.

[Where did Friend-Poe go? Why is Friend-Finn gone?] it asks anxiously.

Poe hesitates. He doesn’t really want to talk about it. “Finn’s in the medbay.”

[Oh, no! Friend-Finn hurt?]

Poe sighs. Having a droid is probably good preparation for being a parent. He never expected to have to explain self-harm to his little mechanical friend.

“Yeah, buddy. He found out about some stuff the Empire and the First Order did, and he felt bad and blamed himself because he used to be on their side, and the First Order trained him to feel pain when he did something wrong. So he hurt himself.”

[Poor Friend-Finn!] BB-8 makes a distraught, moaning sound. [That’s--] It uses a Binary term that literally refers to two wires being plugged into each other’s place, but metaphorically means something like “twisted,” “backwards,” or “the opposite of how things should be.”

“I know. It’s incredibly sad and messed up. I’m going to burn down the entire First Order until there’s nothing left of it for all the hurt they’ve caused; you with me?”

BB-8 extends its blowtorch in the “thumbs up” gesture Finn taught it and flares the flame. Poe smiles in spite of himself.

* * *

 Rey walks in her room and closes the door behind her, leaning against it in exhaustion.

“That you, Rey?” Jess’s voice comes from inside the fresher.

“Yeah,” she calls back.

“Guess who finally learned the L’ullo stand and _totally didn’t die_?” Jess saunters out, and her face goes from a grin to a horrified stare. “Shit, what’s the matter? You look awful. Come sit down.”

Jess is right. Rey is muddy, her hair is still a mess, and her eyes and nose are red from crying.

Rey offers a weak smile and starts to take her hair down. “Could you put on some water for cocoa?”

* * *

After convincing BB-8 to go to sleep, Poe takes off his sleeveless undershirt and throws it in the sink with some water, adding bleach for good measure. There’s a blood stain on it, in addition to all his sweat and his and Rey’s tears. He grits his teeth and picks up the bloody razor blade, careful not to touch the sharp edge. He throws it away, along with the rest of the razor, ties off the bag in the garbage bin, and carries it out to the dumpster. Back in his fresher, he wets a rag and scrubs the dried blood off the counter, then wipes the blood drips and spilled whiskey off the floor and adds the rag to the bleach mixture in the sink. He caps the bottle, puts it back with the others in the cabinet, and puts a lock on the cabinet door. He does all of this without crying.

* * *

Poe looks at the chrono for the hundredth time that night and groans. 0400 hours was not a time he was expecting to be awake for when he went to bed hours ago. At least he has the day off tomorrow—no, today now—because he’d be worthless in the cockpit after not sleeping. He rolls over again, clutches Finn’s Ewok teddy to his chest, and buries his face in his damp pillow.


	17. the best friends ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor TW for suicide. (The possibility is dismissed, but it is mentioned.)

Finn wakes up in the medbay with an IV in his hand, bandages wrapped around his wrists and forearms, and a headache that’s uncomfortable, but probably not as bad as he deserves. Just like last time, his memory is fuzzy. He remembers reading one of the history books on his datapad, having an emotional breakdown, stealing from Poe’s alcohol cabinet, and taking a razor apart, but not much after that. There’s no way he got himself to the medbay after the shape he put himself into last night. _Whom did I embarrass myself in front of this time?_ he wonders with a groan.

He makes a mental note that trying to fix bad feelings with alcohol and pain is useless. In fact, it was worse that useless, because now he’s in the medbay with a hangover and Force knows what kind of wounds on his arms, and he still feels shitty about being complicit in the deaths of so many innocent people.

He rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. It’s clear now that he really only has two options: either he can somehow find a way to be okay in spite of everything, or he can be miserable like he deserves for the rest of his life, and being miserable isn’t working so far. Well, it’s that or suicide, and that’s not an option. Even if he wanted to die, adding one more death to the tally and leaving his friends in pain wouldn’t atone for a lifetime of devotion to the First Order. Still, is it even possible for him to ever be at peace with himself? Finn has his doubts.

A med droid wheels into the room and sets a tray of breakfast food on the bedside table. Finn is too distracted to pay much attention to what it’s saying and gives perfunctory answers. But then: “You have visitors. Shall I allow them in?”

“Visitors? Who?”

“Rey and Jessika.”

Finn hesitates. He doesn’t want them seeing him like this, especially if they know what happened, but he doesn’t want to just send them away.

“Sure.”

The droid scoots out, and Finn sits up in the bed and moves the tray to his lap, eating as much as he can finish before he has company.

“Finn!” and “Hey, punk!” call Rey and Jess from the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey! Surprisingly okay. Come on in,” he says with a nervous smile and sets the tray aside.

They enter with armfuls of random objects. “We brought you some gifts,” explains Rey. “Most of the pilots are still asleep, since it’s their day off, but the ones that were at breakfast agreed you needed presents if you were in the medbay. Especially since they didn’t know you last time you were here.”

Jess spreads a fuzzy blanket around his legs. “This is from Snap. It’s a blanket, but with sleeves! He has one just like it that he wears whenever he’s upset.”

Rey sets a package of chocolate wafers on the bedside table. “Karè said to tell you to get well soon and she hopes you enjoy these.”  

“Iolo sent you this.” Jess holds out a small magazine. “It’s a book of puzzles so you won’t get bored in here.” She sets it on the table.

“This is from me.” Rey smiles and hands Finn one of her cocoa mugs with a plant growing in it. Purple flowers peek out from behind its leaves. “Jess said people normally cut flowers for their friends and family who are recovering, but I didn’t want to kill it, so I just transplanted it. I’ll get you a proper flowerpot at some point.”

Something about it touches him deeply. “Aww, Rey, I love it. C’mere.” He reaches out and hugs her, and she hugs back, pulling him in close. He looks around at the evidence of his friends’ generosity, and his heart swells with gratitude. “This is so much. I don’t know how to thank you all.”

“I believe brief notecards are still the standard, but verbal expressions are becoming acceptable in informal contexts,” Jess remarks dryly and takes a seat on the side of the bed.

He lets go of Rey to playfully punch Jess’s arm. “You know what I mean, laserbrain.” Finn sets the flower on the bedside table next to the other gifts.

“Oh, and this is yours, too.” Rey gives him his furry Ewok teddy, and he hugs it in both arms.

“So I guess this means everyone knows what happened last night, huh?” He sighs in resignation.

“No! I felt your suffering through the Force and came to find you, and Poe found you drunk and bleeding and brought you here. I did tell Jess, but all anyone else knows is that you were in a lot of pain and that it was because of something the First Order did. Everyone understood and didn’t pry. So it’s up to you how much you want to share.”

Finn nods. “Good. Thanks.” He looks at them both and then looks down. “Is Poe… you know… is he mad at me?”

“He was very shaken,” Rey admits. “And he was angry, but it was at the First Order. He has only compassion towards you, and he doesn’t blame you at all for what happened.”

“He wanted to come with us, actually,” Jess chimes in. “But he didn’t sleep all night, and he fell asleep on me during breakfast. Like, literally on me.” She smiles in amusement.

“We didn’t want to wake him up, so we carried him back to your room and put him to bed.” Rey adds.

“I carried him. Rey lifted him into the top bunk with the Force. He slept through the whole thing. It was kind of awesome. Oh, and we started a load of your laundry. I hope you don’t mind—I mean, you did leave it all over the floor.”

Finn shakes his head. “You guys are the best friends _ever_.”

“Damn right we are.” Jess gives him her cocky pilot’s grin. “And you haven’t even heard the best part yet.” She reaches into her messenger bag and pulls out a stack of paper and a tub of felt tip markers. “This is my present to you: prepare to experience the wonder of coloring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! It really makes my day. I hope this chapter makes up for at least some of the angst of the last three, my darling readers.


	18. for your own good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs for brief, passing mentions of self-harm and suicide. 
> 
> Lieutenant Parrvox is an OC from ScarlettStorm's phenomenal fic [Jessika Pava: Best Wingman in the Resistance!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5716459/chapters/13170451) I highly recommend it-- it's hilarious, creative and absolutely adorable. Seriously, Jess knits, Finn and Rey eat cake for the first time, awkward conversations happen... it's pretty great. Originally I was going to come up with a therapist character of my own, but after reading it I pretty much fell in love with Parrvox, so here she is, with ScarlettStorm's permission.

Finn is carefully outlining one section of his second coloring page—it’s a creature with wings and tentacles that he isn’t sure actually exists—when Rey sighs and tosses her marker back in the tub.

“Hey Jess, pass me another page, would you? I don’t think there’s any fixing this one. It’s trash.”

“It’s not trash! This is the best part!” Jess hands her another sheet of paper and takes the ruined one, lining up the edges and folding it in half on her tray. Finn stops coloring to look at what she’s doing. A few careful folds later, the paper looks like a miniature shuttle, albeit one with unusual markings.

“All right, baby, don’t fail me now,” Jess says to it before tossing it across the room. It glides gracefully for a few meters but then nosedives into the floor. “Not a bad start.” Jess hops up and picks it up off the floor.

“Whoa!” says Finn. “It actually flew!”

“Of course it did; I made it!” She winks. “Want me to teach you how?” 

By the time Poe walks in an hour later, wearing baggy sweatpants and with a day and a half’s worth of stubble on his face, they have a whole squadron of paper shuttles of various types. Jess looks up from where she’s picking an unlucky Lambda-class of Finn’s off the floor and does a double take.

“Hey, sleepyhead! You’re awake.”

“Barely.” Poe runs a hand through his hair, and it does nothing to help his ridiculous case of bedhead. “I have somewhere I have to be in twenty minutes, and BB-8 tried to give me time to get ready, but I wanted to see Finn first.”

Finn, for his part, wishes he could hide in a hole. Poe looks over at Finn and licks his lip nervously. Finn looks away. “Hi, Poe,” he manages, because he can’t think of anything else to say. What do you say to someone after they find you at your worst?

“Hey, so, are you, uh… feeling better today?”

Finn still can’t bring himself to look him in the face. “Yeah.”

“That’s really good,” Poe offers weakly.

Finn doesn’t know how to answer. Rey and Jess exchange an anxious look. The silence hangs awkwardly in the room.

A knock at the door interrupts the uncomfortable moment, and Finn releases the breath he had been holding. “Come in!”

Dr. Kalonia and a creature of a species Finn hasn’t seen before enter the room. He eyes it warily. It doesn’t look dangerous—it’s covered in green and brown fur, it’s tiny, and it looks at him with large dark eyes that seem patient and wise—but he knows that appearances can be deceiving.

“Hello, Finn. You’re looking much better today,” notes the doctor.

“Thanks. I feel much better. Though I guess that’s not saying much.”

She gives him a wry smile and carefully takes the IV out of his hand. “We’re almost ready to discharge you. There’s just one more step before we send you on your way: you’re going to have a brief consultation with a specialist to make sure you’re not a danger to yourself. This is a military base, and we take mental healthcare very seriously here.”

The small, furry creature stands next to the bed and looks up at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Finn,” she says in a gentle, rumbly voice. “I’m Lieutenant Parrvox, the base therapist.”

Finn narrows his eyes at Dr. Kalonia. “You said meeting with a therapist was optional.”

Dr. Kalonia raises an eyebrow at him. “After injuries sustained during combat? Yes. After an episode of self-harm severe enough that it looks like it might have been a suicide attempt? Absolutely not.” She shakes her head. “You have the right to refuse the consultation, but failing to pass it means having to move you to the psych wing and possibly putting you under lockdown for your own safety.”

Finn clenches his fists. “Is that a threat, doctor?” he growls. No one’s messing around with his thoughts again. He’s not going to let them.

Lieutenant Parrvox speaks up. “Finn, no one here want to harm you. We care very much about your health and safety, and this is for your own good.”

 _This is for your own good._ That’s what the First Order said about reconditioning. Panic boils up inside of him. He’s made the same mistake again—he’s gone from one side to the other, and they’re both the same—

“I have another appointment in a few minutes, and it’s going to last about an hour,” Lt. Parrvox continues. “We can wrap this up before then and send you on your way. Or, if you’re not ready, why don’t I come back afterwards and give you some time to become more comfortable with the idea of meeting with me?”

Finn glares at her in defiance. “You can come back later if you want, but there’s no way I’m letting you mess around with my thoughts and feelings. They’re _mine_.” He looks over at Dr. Kalonia. “Lock me up if you want to. You can call it reconditioning, you can call it therapy, you can call it a consultation, but no one’s doing it to me _ever again_.”

“I have an idea.” Everyone turns to look at Poe. Finn had forgotten his friends were still in the room. “So, uh. Her appointment is with me.”

“I didn’t mention that because of confidentiality, but yes, go on.”

Poe scratches the back of his head. “If it’s okay with you both, Finn could come and sit in on it, just to see what it’s like, and then decide if it’s something he’s up for after seeing how it works.”

She looks thoughtful as she considers it. “Hmm. If you’re sure about it, Poe, I don’t see why not.”

Finn looks at Poe skeptically. “I’ll come watch, but no promises.”


	19. it's progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the super-long chapter. In my defense, Poe needs a *lot* of therapy. =)

Finn follows Poe and Lieutenant Parrvox into her office. It’s quiet and secluded, and it doesn’t feel like the rest of the medbay. Several elegant floor lamps give the room a soft, dim glow. Couches and armchairs for species of different sizes line the walls, and they’re covered in quilts, afghans, and throw pillows. Parrvox gestures to some of them. “Take your pick, Finn. Make yourself at home.” He chooses a couch near the door, sets his Ewok teddy on his lap, and wraps his fleecy blanket from Snap around him. His bandaged arms fold across his chest defensively, but he looks significantly less hostile than he would if they weren’t also swamped by the blanket sleeves and holding a stuffed bear.

Poe plops down on the carpet in the middle of the room. “Can we do the pillow thing again? That was really nice last time.”

“Of course,” she smiles and sits next to him, curling her huge fluffy tail into a ball. Poe lies down on his side, pulls his knees in close, and rests his head on the soft tail while nestling his fingers in it. She strokes his cheek with one of her soft paws, and he lets out a hum of delight.

“Take a few deep breaths and get comfortable,” she tells him, and there’s a minute or so of peaceful silence, where the only sound in the room is Poe’s steady breathing. He looks so relaxed, Finn thinks he might actually be falling asleep.

“Let’s start with your checklist. Have you kept up with it this week?”

“Yeah. I’m still taking medication every day. I’ve eaten three meals a day and snacks when I’m hungry. I’ve showered and spent time with people every day. I meditated three out of the last five days. And... what am I missing?”

“Sleep.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ve been getting eight hours most nights, except when I woke up with nightmares two nights ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, and last night.”

“What happened last night?” Finn notes that she doesn’t sound angry or threatening, just curious.

“Well, I went to bed on time, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I came back from breakfast and—“ Poe’s eyes fly open. “I don’t even remember walking back to my room, just sitting in the mess hall one minute and waking up in my bunk the next.” Poe looks incredibly confused. Finn stifles a laugh. He’ll have to tell him about Rey and Jess carrying him back later. “Anyway,” Poe closes his eyes and continues, “I did get some sleep, just not at night.”

“That’s a definite improvement from when we first started meeting.”

“No kidding.” Poe smiles.

“I’m very proud of you. And it sounds like you’re doing your best to persevere even when you don’t get results right away.”

“Yeah, I stayed in bed instead of getting up and working on my X-wing or surfing the holonet.” He shrugs the shoulder that’s facing the ceiling. “It’s progress.”

“It certainly is. You mentioned nightmares, and I want to come back to that, but first, have you had any other symptoms this week?”

“I was triggered last night. It wasn’t a flashback, but it was pretty bad.” Finn cringes and hopes it wasn’t his fault.

“Which do you want to talk about first?”

Poe sighs and takes more of her tail in his hands. “Last night.”

“So what happened, and how did you respond?”

He takes a deep breath. “I saw a… situation, where… someone was hurt,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, as though Finn won’t know exactly what he’s talking about, “and I brought them to the medbay. And the droid there kept asking me questions about what happened to them. And it felt like I was in an interrogation, so I freaked out and ran outside.”

She nods. “I understand why that would be upsetting to you. What did you do next?”

“I tried to catch my breath, because I was hyperventilating. And I practiced my grounding techniques so I’d stay in the present, like touching and smelling what was around me. I had to remind myself to be okay with the anxious feelings so they wouldn’t spiral out of control.”

“Very good. Did that help?”

“Definitely.” He nods.

“Excellent.”

Finn is impressed. He remembers the look of panic in Poe’s eyes during his flashback in the mess hall, and if anything relieves some of that panic, well, that’s a point in its favor.

They turn the conversation to Poe’s nightmare, and Finn watches them in awe. It’s like watching a delicate surgery, or the complicated Dandoranian slow dance Jess had tried to teach him at the reception for an award ceremony—a nuanced back and forth built on trust, carefulness, and skill. She’s not trying to forbid Poe from having fear; she’s trying to help him understand it. She prods him gently, lifting layers, until eventually he’s at the verge of tears and whispering so quietly Finn can hardly hear him.

“That’s it, though. That’s it. I’m afraid of letting my friends down, that I won’t be enough to keep them safe. That I won’t be enough of a pilot, enough of a soldier.” He chokes up. “Enough of a friend.”

“Hmm.” She strokes his cheek. “That’s a big fear. It sounds like a heavy burden.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me, Poe, if one of your friends, say, Jessika—if Jessika came to you and told you she was afraid that she wouldn’t be enough of a pilot to keep you safe, or enough of a friend to keep you from having flashbacks, how would you respond?”

Poe looks thoughtful for a moment before smirking. “I’d tell her she’s a laserbrained, nerfherding punk who’s full of bantha shit.” Finn snorts. 

“Next time I’ll remember to pick a friend who doesn’t use insults as terms of endearment.” Parrvox’s eyes sparkle. “Why would she be ‘full of bantha shit,’ Poe?”

“Because I’m a grown man who signed up for this war knowing what the risks were. She can’t guarantee my safety. And the flashbacks are neither her fault nor something she can control, so why would that make her a bad friend?”

“I’m hearing you say that she shouldn’t try to blame herself for things that aren’t her responsibility; is that right?”

“Sure.”  She lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, and he huffs. “Okay, I get it.”

“Do you blame yourself for things that aren’t your responsibility, Poe?”

“Yes,” he admits.

“How is this affecting your recovery process?”

They discuss it for a while longer, and she gives him a small homework assignment to help him explore it further.

_If this is really all that therapy is,_ Finn thinks, _then therapy is magic._ This is nothing like the harsh pain of reconditioning. Finn wonders if he was wrong about sharing his thoughts and feelings with a therapist. Maybe this could be a good thing. Maybe this could be a way for him to eventually be okay. 

Near the end of the hour, Poe’s session draws to a close, and they spend the last couple of minutes settling on a time to meet the following week. Poe picks himself up off the floor and stretches. He heads for the door, but Finn stops him.

“Hey, could you wait for me outside? I’ll just be a few minutes in here, and I want to talk with you.” Finn takes a deep breath, gathers his resolve, and looks at Lieutenant Parrvox. “Okay. Let’s do this.”


	20. I want that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Finn wrapped in a cozy blanket, holding his Ewok teddy, and talking about his feelings with an actual therapist (who's a space quokka with the fluffiest lemur tail ever) is what we've been waiting for for like the last six chapters, right? 
> 
> TW for discussion of self-harm, suicidal ideation, and past physical abuse.

When Finn had agreed to the consultation with Lieutenant Parrvox, he had seen Poe’s whole face light up.

“Proud of you, buddy. You got this,” Poe had encouraged him before dashing out the door.

Now Finn wonders if he should have asked him to stay. He looks over at Parrvox, who’s still standing in the center of the room.

“I’m really nervous about this,” he blurts out, holding his teddy tighter. “They said therapy was a way to have my thoughts and feelings changed, but I didn’t know it would just be talking, because when—with the First Order—when I went for reconditioning— when they changed my thoughts and feelings before—“ he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to find words that just won’t come.

Reconditioning wasn’t training. It wasn’t an improvement. They hurt and damaged him, and they knew what they were doing. The enormity of what the First Order has done to him, how they’ve not just used him but _wronged_ him, hits him for the first time. He knows his past life wasn’t great, and he knows the First Order did awful things, but he’s never seen himself as one of their victims until now.

“—it was never just talking,” he finishes awkwardly. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and when he opens his eyes, Lieutenant Parrvox is sitting on the couch next to him, nodding.

“Ah. I see. That would certainly explain your reluctance to be here. Finn, when you had reconditioning, did it involve physical pain?”

Finn cringes at the memories and hugs his blanket around him. “Yeah.”

She flicks her tail and lands it in his lap. “Feel free to touch my tail if you like. It tends to be calming for humans.” She smiles, and Finn reaches out a hand. _Wow_. It’s the softest thing he’s ever felt—no wonder Poe wanted to curl up and put his face on it.

She continues. “Did reconditioning happen after you did something that wasn’t allowed, or after you didn’t meet their expectations?” He nods. “And did you feel better afterwards?”

“Always.” A flash of anger flares up inside of him at the wrongness of it.

“Hmm.” She nods thoughtfully. “How do you feel about the future? Do you think your life will get better?”

“Well…” He pauses. “I hope so. And I’m starting to believe it will.”

“Do you feel like you have much control over your own life now?”

“Definitely! Sometimes a little too much. I don’t know what to do with it.” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Good. That’s totally normal, Finn. And do you feel that your life is worthwhile, and that you’re valuable?

“Yeah.” The first one, at least.

“Do you ever feel that you’d like to be unconscious for a long time, or go to sleep and not wake up, or anything along those lines?”

He looks at her like she’s sprouting a third eye. “I was in a coma for two weeks. Not a chance. Never again.”

Amusement toys with the corners of her mouth. “Fair enough. Do you ever feel like others would be better off without you around?”

“No way! They’d miss me for sure.”

“Excellent.” She nods. “And you’re right about that. Now, I need you to continue to be honest with me here. Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear; there’s no wrong answer, and you won’t be punished, no matter what you say.” He takes a deep breath and bites his lip. “Last night, when you were harming yourself, did you want to die, or did you stop caring whether you lived or died?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember that part of the night very well. I had already had quite a bit to drink. But I didn’t want to die for any of the time I can remember.” He shakes his head. “It didn’t even occur to me that I could cut myself bad enough to kill myself. I don't want to die. I just felt like the pain was something I deserved. Something I needed.”

She frowns and looks at him with big, sad eyes. “That sounds very distressing, Finn.”

“Yeah. I was really a mess.” He looks down. Parrvox’s tail is lying across his lap like a seatbelt for the stuffed Ewok, and he buries his fingers in the softness. “I don’t ever want to feel that way again.” He meets her eyes with a fiery, fierce sincerity. “Now it’s _your_ turn to be honest with _me_. Can you help me the same way you’re helping Poe? Can I ever be okay? Is that even possible?”

Her smile ignites a spark of hope inside of him. “I would love to, Finn! Your recovery won’t look exactly the same as Poe’s, and it’s going to take a lot of time and hard work, but if you’re willing to work for it, you can absolutely get better.”

He nods. “Okay. I want that.”

“Wonderful. Let me just sign off on a form and send it to Dr. Kalonia so she can prepare your discharge paperwork, and then we’ll schedule you an appointment.”


	21. do you love yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have another long chapter (which I am totally not apologizing for, since I haven't printed it out and whacked anybody over the head with it).

“Are we there yet?” asks Finn, following Rey up the winding, narrow path through the forest.

“Almost!” Rey looks back at him over her shoulder. “Ask me again and I’ll throw you off the side of the mountain.”

“I thought Jedi were supposed to be patient.” They had finally gotten her to admit to being a Jedi, and if she thought it would stop their teasing, she was wrong.  

“An hour of your pestering would turn Master Yoda himself to the dark side. I promise it’s not much farther.”

A few paces later, they come to a steep segment of the path, and Rey reaches out and uses her hands to climb expertly over the ridge, disappearing to the other side. Finn scrambles up behind her, and the view takes his breath away.

They’re on a flat ledge near the top of the mountain, and the vibrant green forest stretches out under them like a carpet. The Resistance base is visible, too, despite being well-hidden, and a river dances through the valley and glimmers in the sunlight. The beauty of it all takes Finn’s breath away.

He turns to Rey and finds her standing in a cluster of birch trees, holding back to let him take it all in for himself. She seems to glow in the golden light filtering through the forest. The breeze is flirting with the hem of her robe and a few stray strands of hair.

“Rey, this place is amazing,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles. “I feel the most alive when I’m here.”

Gracefully she folds her legs under her and sits down with her back to the valley. She beckons him over to her, and he sits cross-legged, facing her, with their knees almost touching.

“Finn?” She hesitates, then breathes the question out in a rush. “Is it okay if I practice Force healing on you?”

“You can do that?”

“A little, yeah.” She looks down and blushes. “I can’t completely heal injuries, but I can send positive energy to help speed up the natural healing process. I’m not very experienced, though, and I don’t want to do it without your permission.”

Rey has healing powers? And she wants to share them with him, of all people? Even though she knows the wounds are his fault?

“Absolutely.”

She picks up one arm, carefully unwraps the gauze and removes the bacta patches, and sets his forearm down on their knees, facing up. Then she does the same to the other arm. If she’s disgusted by the red gashes crisscrossing his forearms, she doesn’t show it. She reaches her arms out and lets them hover a few centimeters above his, her palms facing down towards his elbows.

“Okay, so close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, and try to feel the Force around us. I’m going to speak to your mind and get a sense for your feelings, but I’m not going to control your thoughts or try to take anything from you. I’ll only hear what you want me to, all right?

“All right.” He closes his eyes and slowly fills his lungs with the crisp mountain air. He breathes out, and his back and shoulders release tension he didn’t know he was holding.

A breeze rustles the birches and cools his skin. Rey’s breath is warm on his face as she enters her meditative state. Slowly, the sunlight that he can feel even with his eyes closed seems to move around him and Rey, and it’s like little bursts of light are surrounding them. He feels them as bursts of joy and life. This must be the light side of the Force. The forest is teeming with living things, he realizes, and Finn senses that he is connected to all of them. He breathes as if to welcome it all in.

 _Finn?_ Rey’s voice speaks in his mind.

 _I can hear you,_ he responds.

_How are you at accepting love?_

It’s a good question, and he doesn’t know the answer. _I don’t know_ , he thinks towards her, _but I want to be able to accept it._

His forearms tingle, and something clean and warm is pouring over them—no, _into_ them—from Rey. Suddenly an awareness of her deep affection for him washes over him, and if he wasn’t covered in goosebumps before, he is now. He feels her love for him, and Poe’s, and Jess’s, and his love for them rises warm in his chest. She continues to pour golden energy into him. Leia’s maternal care for him rises to his mind, and Luke’s hospitality, and the kindness from the rest of the pilots, and Dr. Kalonia’s fierce protectiveness, and Lieutenant Parrvox’s patient acceptance, and even BB-8’s loyalty. Something inside of him sends out a wave of gratitude.

 _Finn_ , Rey thinks to him softly, _do you love yourself?_

The question catches him off guard. Why would he love himself? He was a Stormtrooper, a pawn of the First Order. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he can’t help feeling like a monster. Now he’s nobody.

 _Do you love yourself for who you really are?_ asks Rey.

Something inside of him breaks, and darkness and anger flash around him. _How would I know?_ , he yells back. _I don’t_ _KNOW_ _who I really am!_ Rey flinches, he can sense it. His breath catches in his throat, wavers.

 _So the real question is, who are you?_ She considers patiently. _You’re afraid of this question._

 _Okay, yes._ He sighs out loud. _I am._ He’s admitting it to himself as much as to her. _Who am I, Rey?_

She shakes her head. _You know_ _I can’t answer that for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: when I first imagined this scene, I imagined birch trees in the clearing. When I went to write it, I looked up tree symbolism to see if there was a tree that symbolized healing. Birch trees aren't connected to healing per se, but they represent new beginnings and renewal because they're some of the first trees to recover from winter and the first to repopulate forests that have been damaged by fire. BAM. Have some tree symbolism, fellow literary nerds.


	22. something there worth loving after all

Rey is right, Finn knows. Only he can answer the question of who he is. But where to start?

 _I don’t even know where to begin, Rey_ , he thinks towards her.

 _Hmmm…_ she starts. _Maybe—_

Suddenly, the mountaintop and the forest are gone. He’s in a dusty marketplace, whirling around a staff and hitting two attackers. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a dark-skinned man who’s wearing black pants and a brown jacket and running towards them. The attackers fall to the ground after a few blows, and the man stops. _Was he running towards me, to protect me? Why would he want to protect me?_ Confusion mingles with suspicion and a hint of gratitude. _It’s been so long since anyone else cared about protecting me._ A droid yelling angrily in Binary cuts into the thoughts, and suddenly Finn is back on the mountain overlooking the base.

Of course. The man in the marketplace was him. _Did you just give me a vision of your memory, Rey?_

_Yeah. That was when we met, remember?_

_I remember! I just… you were grateful?_

She laughs out loud. _I didn’t exactly show it then, did I? Okay, try this one._

Rey plunges them into another Force vision. He sees a grainy, blue holo of Poe in front of a view of the ocean and a cloudy sky.

“…going to try to wake him up in the next couple of days,” Poe is saying. “Dr. Kalonia wants me to be there, since I’m the one he’s most likely to recognize. I wish you could be here, Rey.”

“I wish I could, too.” He experiences himself as Rey again.

“He’s going to have one hell of a recovery.” Poe shakes his head. “Even without the lightsaber wound, I mean. We don’t even know what they do to Stormtroopers to keep them in line, much less what kinds of aftereffects it has. I always just thought of them as brainwashed, nameless automata with no personality, but Finn is such a—such a _person_. And an incredibly brave one, too.”

“That he is.” Rey nods.

“You should have seen him when he was helping me escape.” Poe grins. “He was so nervous, but we did it. I knew he wasn’t a Stormtrooper anymore, ‘cuz he could actually aim the guns.”

“I know! He fought off a couple of TIEs when we were getting off Jakku in the Falcon.”

“Awesome! I bet the First Order doesn’t know what they lost when he left. He’s a great soldier, but I’m looking forward to getting to know him as a person.”

“Me, too.”

 Rey brings them back to the mountain again.

_Poe thinks I’m brave?_

_INCREDIBLY brave. I have no reason not to believe him, do you?_

Finn turns this over in his mind. He hasn’t really thought of himself as brave. But they’re right—it was brave of him to escape the First Order, and he was brave in the Falcon, and on Starkiller. Maybe he didn’t feel brave at the time, but he realizes they’re right about him. _Okay, so I’m a person. I'm protective. And I’m brave._

 _It’s a good start!_ Rey thinks for a moment. _Ooh, look at this!_

Finn is in one of Rey’s memories again, swinging on the hammock that she and Jess put up in their room. Jess is in a T-shirt and pajama pants, coloring at her desk, and in the middle of one of her rambles.

“… so then he asks if we have a library, so I took him to the room where you can rent datapads and chips with books on them, which is the closest thing we’ve got. And he checks out like ten of them!” She looks up at Rey and ticks off on her fingers. “One book about logic and rhetoric, of all things. One book about human sexuality. Two datachips with programs for learning Binary. One cross-species etiquette guide. And at least six history books! If he finishes them all by the due date and keeps up the pace, he’ll know more about each of those topics than any of us by the end of the year. Except maybe the sex book. You need hands-on experience for that. Or, more than hands, rather.” She smirks. “But anyway, it blew me away how much he wanted to learn. I mean, was he even allowed to be curious before he got here?”

“I don’t know,” Rey finally gets a word in edgewise. “He doesn’t really talk about it.”

Jess continues. “You guys told me he was an ex-Stormtrooper; I wasn’t expecting him to be such a nerd.” She smiles at her coloring sheet. “It’s _awesome_.”

Finn comes back from this vision with a smile on his face. _I AM curious. And I always have been._

_Good! So we have brave and curious. What else do your choices say about you?_

His choices? Choices are overwhelming. He’s made them, though. He made a choice that night on Jakku. _Do you mind if I share a memory with you, Rey? It might be painful._

_Go ahead._

He sees the fire burning around him and re-lives the thought processes that led him to the decision to leave the First Order. Rey doesn’t say anything, but he looks at it from a different perspective knowing she’s there. He feels the brokenness, the sense of loss and betrayal, and the devastation that he felt then, but this time he feels something else, too. He feels the courage it took to decide to leave. He feels the empathy for FN-2003 and the villagers that made him care. He feels his conscience and sense of justice telling him that something’s horribly wrong, and his trust in his own conscience that broke through years of reconditioning.

Finn turns away from the village, and they’re back on the mountain. The sense of himself as a person with empathy and a conscience stays with him, adding itself to the idea that he’s protective, brave, and curious. “You’re a good man,” he remembers both Leia and Poe saying to him, and in this moment, he can actually believe it. There’s something there worth loving after all.

 _I'm worth loving._ A warmth in his chest flickers to life like a flame, igniting golden energy throughout his body. It reaches into his arms, down to his forearms, and meets with the energy Rey is pouring into him. It feels like light is seeping out of the wounds on his arms, and the tingling intensifies.

Finn feels more content than he’s ever felt in his life. After a few moments, the tingling dies down, and the fiery warmth settles into a calm glow near his heart.

“Finn,” Rey says aloud, in almost a whisper, “open your eyes.”

There, in the sunlight, he sees that the scabbed gashes on his arms have been replaced with new skin and thin, pale scars.

“It actually worked.” He looks up, into her eyes. “Rey, you healed me.”

She shakes her head. They're smiling at each other like they did after stealing the Falcon. “Didn’t you feel it? You healed yourself.”

Finn doesn't have words for what he's feeling. It's like stillness, but more alive. It's like hope, but in the present. It's like joy, but more deeply rooted. 

The word comes, and he throws his arms around Rey, tears springing to his eyes. 

This is what peace feels like. 


	23. stronger than you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience as I wrap up this story. I got more hours than usual at my job this week, and it's been kicking my butt.

That night, Finn is sitting at his desk, writing thank-you notes in his pajamas, when Poe enters their room. They didn’t get a chance to talk after Finn’s consultation with Lieutenant Parrvox, since Rey and Jess were there, so they haven’t communicated much since last night besides the tense greeting in the medbay. Finn looks up and turns his chair around.

“We need to talk,” Finn says. 

Poe nods and takes a seat in his own desk chair, leaning forward on his elbows.

“So, about last night… I know that it really upset you to find me, uh, to find me like that. And I owe you an apology. I’m so sorry for hurting you and scaring you the way I did.”

Poe shakes his head, stunned. “You’re apologizing to me? Finn, I don’t blame you! I just wanted you to be okay. I should be apologizing to you, I had no idea you felt the way you did—you could have talked to me—I should have been there for you—“

“Poe, don’t do this—“ Finn tries to cut him off.

“I should have seen it coming, of course they would have done stuff to you—“

“No, listen, this is not your fault!” Finn raises his voice over him, but Poe’s self-blame is spiraling out of control.

“—and it didn’t even occur to me that you didn’t know about what Starkiller was used for, of course they lied, and—“

“Poe!” Finn grasps Poe’s shoulders. “If you’re blaming yourself for any of what happened—“ Finn shakes his head, “you are a laserbrained, nerfherding punk who’s full of bantha shit.”

Poe shuts up, looking slightly confused. After a moment, a smile creeps across his face, and he laughs softly.

“Okay. I… yeah.” He nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Thanks for looking out for me. You did keep me safe, you know.”

“Any time, buddy. And seriously, if you feel like that again, don’t take it out on yourself. Please. Come talk to me, or Rey or Jess, or Parrvox, all right? We’re here for you.”

Finn nods. “I will. I promise.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. Oh hey, that reminds me, how was your meeting with Parrvox?”

“Good! Thanks for letting me sit in on your appointment. It definitely wasn’t what I expected. I’m going to start meeting with her, and she’s going to help me like she’s helping you. My first appointment is the day after tomorrow, so we’ll see how it goes.”

“That’s awesome!” Poe smiles. “You’re a good man, Finn, and you’re incredibly brave.”

Finn smiles. _I know_. “You’re the best friend I could have asked for,” he replies, “and you’re stronger than you know.”

Poe looks genuinely touched. “Thanks, buddy.” After a moment, he adds, “so do you want me to get our razors and scissors and my knife back from Rey and Jess’s room, or do you want to leave them there for a few days?”

Wow, Poe thought of everything. “Oh, is that where they disappeared to? I didn’t think I took _all_ the razors apart. Yeah, unless you’re going undercover as a hobo on your next mission,” he teases. “You’re pretty scruffy.”

“Me? Scruffy?” he grumbles in pretend annoyance as he stands and heads for the door. Before leaving the room, he pauses to look back at Finn. “Y’know something? For the first time in quite a while, I feel like maybe, even after everything we’ve all been through, maybe we just might end up okay.”

Finn lights up, feeling the warm peace that’s made a home in his chest. “Me too.”


	24. support and balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: while the therapy techniques described in this chapter are intended to be a realistic portrayal of therapy in our own galaxy, this isn't advice, and it's not meant for informational purposes. Please consult a qualified professional to develop a treatment plan that's right for you, instead of getting your mental healthcare from a fictional story by a random anonymous internet user whose only credentials are spending a lot of time in therapy and getting a psychology minor in college. 
> 
> The analogy of Finn's recovery as a three-legged stool is inspired by a similar analogy used by Gwyneth Olwyn of [Your Eatopia.](http://www.youreatopia.com/blog/2012/11/23/phases-of-recovery-from-a-restrictive-eating-disorder.html)

When Finn arrives at Lieutenant Parrvox’s office for his appointment, she’s waiting for him with the door open.

“Finn! Welcome! Come on in.”

“Hello, Lieutenant. It’s good to be back.”

He closes the door behind him and picks a different couch this time, a low one with extra throw pillows compensating for how deep it is. Parrvox gets a curious look on her face, or at least Finn interprets it as curiosity. He hasn’t made it through that book on inter-species communication yet. She walks closer to where he’s sitting and extends her hands as though she’s placing her palms on a wall with her eyes closed.

“Hmm… interesting. Very good,” she says to herself.

“What?”

She opens her eyes and cocks her head thoughtfully. “Finn, have you spent any time with Luke Skywalker or his apprentice in the past couple of days?”

“Yeah, Rey’s my friend. We went for a walk on the mountain and meditated together the other day.”

“Ah.” Parrvox nods. “How are you feeling today?”

“Really good! Still a little nervous about being here, but mostly hopeful.”

“Have you had any thoughts or impulses of self-harming since you left the medbay?”

“I’ve thought a lot about what happened the other day, but I haven’t thought about doing it again. I really don’t ever want to.”

“Wonderful. That’s a great place to be when you’re starting recovery.” She walks over to a short, three-legged stool that’s in the center of the room, takes a notepad down from it, and sits with the notepad on her lap and her long tail behind her, higher than her head. Behind the stool is a whiteboard that’s propped up on one of its longer sides just above the floor. “In this session, I’d like us to decide on a treatment plan that will help us make the most of our time together. I have some suggestions based on what you told me and the forms you filled out the other day, but this is _your_ recovery, Finn. I’m just here to help you along. So we’re going to decide on this together, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

“The plan I have in mind has three parts to it. The first part is what we’ll spend most of our time in our meetings working on. You’ve told me that you don’t really know what you believe and that the First Order lied to you. There’s a style of therapy, called cognitive behavioral therapy, that’s based on the idea that our beliefs affect our emotions and our actions, even if we aren’t aware of those beliefs. By understanding what beliefs and assumptions we hold, we can choose to change ones that are harmful and unhealthy—for instance, Poe’s belief that his inability to keep his friends from all harm makes him inadequate, which you saw us work on the other day—and choosing true, helpful beliefs changes our emotions and our lives. Does that make sense so far?”

Finn nods. “So we’re replacing false beliefs with true ones?”

“Exactly. But I’m not going to simply tell you what to believe, the way the First Order did. I’ll help you think through it, but you’re going to have to choose what you believe based on your understanding of yourself and the world around you. It’s hard work, but it’ll change your life. Think you’re up for it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Excellent. The second part of your treatment plan is reducing and responding to negative symptoms that result from your experiences with the First Order—nightmares, anxiety, the compulsion to self-harm, and even just the unpleasant emotions that come up. We’re going to work on specific strategies for practical, healthy ways to respond when these things happen, so you aren’t overwhelmed by them. This will include things like breathing exercises, grounding techniques to stay physically present when your emotions want to carry you away, stopping negative thoughts before they spiral out of control, reframing situations, and avoiding black and white thinking. When I say ‘black and white,’ by the way, I’m not referring to the First Order’s aesthetic; I mean that sometimes we lock ourselves into thinking in all-or-nothing ways instead of looking for a middle ground or a third option. So instead of saying, ‘I’m not perfect, so I’m a total failure,’ for instance, you might say ‘I’m good at some things and not at others, but I can improve with practice,’ which is much more realistic and healthy. This goes hand-in-hand with the cognitive behavioral therapy you’ll be doing here, but you’ll learn how to stop and question those beliefs on your own. Still tracking?”

“Yeah. All of that sounds really helpful.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Parrvox gives him a warm, confident smile. “And sometimes, when painful or confusing memories come up, it helps to talk about them with someone. So, as part of dealing with symptoms, we’ll also be spending part of our time together exploring whatever you want to talk through, whether you need comfort, or need validation, or even if you just want to rant or vent. This is a safe place to express difficult emotions. Plus, articulating what you’ve been through in your own words will help you reclaim your story. But I’m not going to pressure you into sharing anything you’re not ready to share, so you can choose not to answer a question you’re not okay answering yet, all right?”

“All right.” Yeah, therapy is nothing like reconditioning.

“The third part is developing life skills and healthy habits to improve your overall level of happiness and sense of wellbeing. Things like keeping a consistent sleep schedule, eating enough food from a variety of food groups at regular times, cultivating relationships that bring you joy and meaning, making time to take care of yourself, and developing hobbies you enjoy all play a role in supporting your mental health. Developing your friendships and interests, especially, will help you as you seek to rebuild your sense of identity. It seems you’ve become close friends here with quality people already.”

“Definitely!” Finn agrees. “My friends are the best.”

“That’ll go a long way towards helping you recover. Now, do you have any questions or concerns about the three-part treatment plan I’ve suggested?”

“Are we going to do them as three steps, or all at once? It kind of seems like a lot.”

“Good question. We’ll start small with each part and go deeper, so we’re not going to cover everything I’ve mentioned today or even this month. But the idea is to work on all three together. Think of them as the legs of this stool, if you will.” She stands up and holds the stool out with the three legs facing Finn. “All of them work together to give the seat support and balance. If any of them were missing, the seat could not hold my weight. We’re going to give you support and balance.” She sets the stool down and raps her knuckles on the top of it. “What else do you want to know?”

“Can I hold your tail?”

“Of course!”

Finn thinks a moment. “Can we start now?”


	25. an opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please don't take this chapter as advice or mental healthcare.

When Finn asks if they can start on his recovery plan right away, Parrvox laughs brightly. “You’re going to do great, I can tell. What do you want to start with?”

“The cognitive behavioral stuff sounded interesting.”

“Cognitive behavioral stuff it is, then.” She uncaps a dry erase marker and draws a vertical line down the middle of the whiteboard. The left side she titles “Old Beliefs”; the right side is “New Beliefs.”

“Okay, Finn. Do you feel up for talking about your incident the other night, or would you rather start with something lighter?”

“Are you kidding? I _need_ to talk about that.”

“All right, so think back to the other night and remember some of the first thoughts and feelings that came up when you found out that your work on Starkiller base and previous support for the Empire were at odds with your conviction against killing civilians.” She gives him a moment.

He grimaces. “Mistakes need correction,” he quotes, and did his voice always sound so lifeless and mechanical when he said it before?

“Hmm. ‘Correction’ means making things right. Is that the right word for the belief behind that slogan?”

 _Of course not_ , he realizes, _it’s a euphemism_. He just read about those in his logic and rhetoric book. “No. ‘Mistakes deserve punishment.’” It does sound harsher that way.

She writes it on the left side of the board. “Do you think this is a true belief?”

Finn hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

“Can you think of a time when you or someone else made a mistake, and it didn’t deserve punishment?”

 _It’s not trash!_ Jess’s voice comes to mind. _This is the best part_ , she had said when she took Rey’s ruined coloring sheet and made it into a paper shuttle. If a cheap piece of paper can become something new and take flight, why not a person?

“Yeah.” Finn smiles and tells Parrvox the story.“So, I guess the new belief is… ‘mistakes are an opportunity’?”

“That’s more like it,” Parrvox nods and writes ‘mistakes are an opportunity’ on the right side of the board. “Okay, so let’s go back to the scenario. You’re in your room reading, and you come across information you didn’t know before. Uh oh! New information tells you that you made a mistake. But this time, you believe that” –she taps the board—“’mistakes are an opportunity’. How do you respond?”

He thinks back and recalls the shame and anger he felt that night. Pain wells up inside of him. His fists clench, and he breathes faster. “This isn’t a stupid coloring sheet, though! These were people’s lives, and there’s no fixing it—there’s no getting them back! How is this an opportunity?”

“Finn, take a deep breath.” He does. “Now, remember what we said about black and white thinking? Let’s look at this from a different angle. The mistake wasn’t that Alderaan and Hosnian Prime were destroyed. That wasn’t a mistake; it was something that evil people did on purpose. You didn’t choose for those planets to be destroyed, right? What mistake did _you_ make that you believed deserved punishment?”

“I believed that the Empire was right to destroy Alderaan. And I worked on Starkiller base to support the First Order even when I knew they were planning to use a superweapon.”

“Why?” Parrvox keeps her voice neutral, almost as though she’s casually curious.

“Because… because the First Order gave me access to false information. We had reading assignments about both planets that said they were just military and political targets.”

“Why did you believe it?”

Finn’s voice quiets, breaking. “It was the only information I had.”

She climbs up onto the couch and puts her tail into his lap. He gratefully accepts it and holds on.

They sit in silence for a moment before he’s ready to go on. “There really was nothing else I could have done,” he admits. “And when I knew the First Order was wrong, I left that day. I did the best I could.” He takes a deep sigh.

“How does it feel to realize that?”

“It’s a relief.” Finn gives her a hesitant smile. “But… it also doesn’t change what happened.”

“You’re right. I imagine that when you found out, lots of uncomfortable feelings came up in a big, tangled ball, and that overwhelmed you beyond what you had resources to deal with.” He nods. “But let’s try to untangle it a little. There’s the sense of guilt and responsibility you felt, and while those feelings were very real, they weren’t based on reality, so you can let them go as much as possible. There’s also the feelings of sadness, grief, maybe even anger, because innocent people died, right?”

“Right.”

“Do you think you can separate out the feelings you felt because you believed it was partly your fault from the feelings you felt because it happened?”

“I hadn’t thought of that before.” He pauses, eyes closed. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Why did you feel sad?”

He clenches his hands around her tail. “Because it _is_ sad. Because what happened was wrong, and I care about the people it hurt.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He opens his eyes in surprise. “No,” he realizes. “It’s not. I’m protective and compassionate and a good man. Of course it upset me.”

She beams at him. “Bingo! So let’s take it back to our old and new beliefs. How do you feel about a homework assignment?”

“I’m up for whatever will help me recover.”

“Wonderful. I want you to research how people grieved for Alderaan and supported the Alderaanians who were off-world and survived, and how they’re doing the same for Hosnian Prime now. Pick something you can do here that will be a meaningful way to honor the victims and express your own grief and compassion, and we’ll talk about how you can do it next time we meet. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay. Try not to view it as a punishment, or you’ll be missing the point.” She gestures to the whiteboard. “You learned something new, even though it was painful, and now you have the _opportunity_ to act in a way that better matches your values and the person you know yourself to be.”

It’s a good way to look at it, Finn decides. Certainly it doesn’t feel overwhelming like the tangled ball of emotions did.

“Okay.” He nods. “That makes sense.”

“Good. Now, let’s figure out when you can come in again.”


	26. family night

“All I’m saying is, it worked. Like, really well,” Finn says to his friends around the lunch table. “Parrvox could tell that I had been with a Jedi, and today she suggested I spend more time meditating with Rey, so I’m sure she’d be fine with it.”

Rey shrugs. “I’d be up for trying, but I don’t know if Force healing works on mental trauma. And I’d want her there in case something goes wrong.”

Poe shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Maybe at some point I’ll be ready to give it a try, but I really don’t want anyone getting near my head with the Force any time soon. No offense, Rey, but I’d definitely panic.”

“Fair enough.” Finn nods. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“It was a good thought, though, Finn,” says Jess.

“Hello, General!” calls Poe, and the three of them turn to see Leia approaching their table. “Got an exciting mission for us?”

“Not this time,” she smiles. “Finn, I heard you were the one behind the ribbons half the base is wearing, and I wanted one for myself.”

“Of course!” Finn grins and reaches into his satchel, pulling out a silky white ribbon and a thinner purple ribbon held together by a safety pin. He’s wearing one just like it on his jacket. He hands it to her, and she pins it to her lapel.

“How did you come up with the idea?” she asks.

“Well, the First Order didn’t tell me the truth about the attacks on Alderaan and the Hosnian system, and I was really heartbroken when I found out a couple weeks ago. Parrvox suggested I do something to express the grief and compassion I felt, and I learned about the white ribbons people wore in solidarity for Alderaanians. So the white ribbon is for Alderaan, and I chose purple for Hosnian Prime. At first it was just me, but a few other people asked about it and wanted one, too, and it kind of took off from there. I started off selling them to help cover the cost of the materials, but enough people bought them that I decided to donate the money to a foundation that’s helping Hosnian refugees find homes on other planets.”

“What a wonderful project.” She hands him several credit coins. “How much have you raised so far?”

“Almost a thousand credits.” Finn smiles proudly.

“Congratulations. Keep up the good work.” Her smile turns sad. “I grew up on Alderaan, and I was a prisoner on the Death Star when it destroyed my home, so this is very close to my heart.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” She rests a hand on his shoulder. “The grief never completely disappears, but it gives me the motivation to keep fighting.”

He nods. “That’s all we can do.” After a pause, he looks back up at her. “Wait, did you say you were _on_ the Death Star? I thought it blew up! How did you survive?”

She chuckles. “Let’s plan another tea night with Luke. We’ll tell you the whole story.”

BB-8 rolls out from under the table. [Can BB-8 come, too?] it chirps hopefully.

“Of course! In fact, you can all come. We’ll have to meet in my apartment, though; I don’t think Luke’s living room is big enough.”

* * *

 Several nights later, after the stories have been told and the tea has been drank, Rey lets out a sleepy yawn. “This is the best family night ever.” She sighs. “I always wanted a family night.” Leia’s behind her in an armless seat, braiding Rey’s hair in a complex, elegant design. Poe, Jess, and Luke are on the sofa, having some sort of technical conversation about the mechanics of Poe’s X-wing, and BB-8 is chattering away in binary with R2-D2. From what C-3PO had interjected earlier, it sounded like they were debating an issue in droid ethics, and Finn didn’t even know droids could debate ethics, but when he asked, C-3PO assured him that the precise nature of Binary made it an excellent language for philosophical dialogue. Who knew?

Jess stands up from the end of the sofa and sits down next to Finn on the floor in front of the fireplace. “You look deep in thought.”

Finn has to consciously remind himself that this sort of statement is an invitation to share what’s on his mind. “This is the first time I’ve seen a fire since Jakku.”

“Ah.” She nods. “Poe told me what happened. If it’s upsetting you, let’s put it out.”

“Oh, I’m not upset. I was just thinking about how far I’ve come since then. Leaving the First Order was the best decision I ever made. I don’t even feel like the same person I was before that night.”

Jess puts an arm around him. “You have come a long way.” They watch the fire for a few minutes, listening to it crackle and snap.

“What happened on Jakku wasn’t okay.” Finn looks at Jess, and the light from the fire is reflected in her eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to accept it, or if I even want to accept it. But I’m thankful it broke through the illusion that the First Order was about peace.” He smiles and gestures around the room. “This, though. This is peace.”

“Force, Finn, are you getting sappy on me?” she teases. “I’m kidding, nerfherder. Be as sappy as you want. But don’t romanticize us. We’re just people who have been through a lot, and we all have issues, grief, and scars.” She places a gentle hand on the sleeve covering his forearm.

In a burst of sparks, the fire pops, making light dance around the room and filling it with warmth.

“I know.” Finn nods. “But we all care about each other, and we’re all fighting to make the galaxy a better place. To make ourselves better people. And I can’t help thinking that as long as we follow that desire, we’re going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! You made it to the end! Thanks for coming on this month-long journey with me, and many thanks to those of you who've supported me along the way.


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